


Santa Monica Dream

by axolotlNerd



Category: Game Grumps, Ninja Sex Party (Band), Skyhill (Band), Starbomb (Band), The Northern Hues (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Cheating, Crying, Dubious Consent, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Happy at the beginning though, Heartbreak, I'm starting to think it's not just a mood, Then it's complicated, This took a very sudden bad turn, To Strangers Again, To friends Again, wow this is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/axolotlNerd/pseuds/axolotlNerd
Summary: Dan Avidan had never thought he would cheat on a woman.





	1. I Won't Listen To A Word You Say

Dan Avidan had never thought he would cheat on a woman.

He just wasn’t that type of person. He would always reject any offers when at bars with friends, explaining he was in a relationship. If they would persist, he would walk away. He didn’t drink for the explicit purpose of having no accidents happen. He knew what that pain was like, and he would never forgive himself for causing that to someone else.

You were the same. You knew that being in a relationship meant making promises that you are supposed to keep under all circumstances. And being with Dan through the experimental years of your twenties was a good thing. He kept you from doing too many stupid things. And you kept him from being complacent.

 

He was just out of college when he met you, and he was lost. With a degree he had worked long and hard for but never wanted anything to do with, he had nowhere to go. You met at a party held in the woods briefly after graduation, and when he got drunk enough, he rambled to you endlessly.

“I just wanted to do mu-sic. I have a grrrreat voice, but my dad said that I had to get a _stable_ job, but now I don’t know _what_ I’m gonna do with my life!” He said, looking at the bonfire with disdain. You leaned against his shoulder, a small scoff coming out of your mouth. You hadn’t drank much, but it was enough to be a little too comfortable with the fluffy haired stranger.

“Well, you act like it’s too late to do that now. And now you have a backup plan, right?” You said, staring into the fire as well. He looked thoughtful for a moment before talking again.

“You should tell me this again when I’m not blackout drunk.” He said. You smiled, looking at the ruffled man as he took another drink out of his beer. You pulled him up from the fallen tree, earning a confused look from him. “Where’re we goin’?”

“I’ll drive you home, dumb-ass. You’re too drunk to be here for much longer without causing a scene, and I will _not_ let you drive home like this.” You explained as you walked down the worn down path, looking down as his feet fell into step behind yours onto the flattened leaves.

When he got to the car, he just kept talking about how stupid it all was. “Stupid advertising degree, fuckin’, want to sing,” He muttered in the passenger’s seat. You tried to ask him where he lived, but he was so pissed off about his degree that he wouldn’t answer.

So instead, you drove to your apartment, dragging him in and basically saying “Welcome, the couch is right there, goodnight.” You set out a glass of water and bottle of tylenol on the coffee table before falling into bed, asleep before your head hit the pillow.

You woke up before he did, and threw a few ice cubes into the cup of water you left out before throwing a round of toast into the toaster. After it popped up and you were busy spreading a sparing amount of butter on top, you heard a groan from the living room.

Though the toast had been made for you, he probably needed it more. You walked into the other room, carrying a paper plate with the toast. Fluff-face looked at you with a mix of panic and confusion as you held out the food.

“Eat. You’re probably starving.”

You didn’t really blame him for his next words. He was a kind man, one that was always concerned for the well-being of others. After waking up on the couch of a total stranger’s after a night of drinking and stress, the idea was inevitable. He rubbed his face, a hand over about half of his face as he spoke.

“Please don’t say we fucked.” He was so direct it made you laugh. He smiled too, still tired and probably still a little buzzed.

“No, even though you are attractive enough for me to want that. You gave me your life story in a drunken nutshell before I realized just _how_ drunk you were and I wanted to make sure you came home okay.” You explained before jabbing the plate forward. “Now take it. My arm’s getting tired.”

He coyly took the plate, looking a combination of apologetic and amused. After making another round of toast for yourself, you sat down, asking him politely to explain that life story in a _non_ -drunken nutshell. He just gave a basic rundown of how he went through high school all good, had a little sister, went to the French Alps for some reason you couldn’t remember, and was now stuck in a rut.

“I get where my dad’s coming from. He just wants me to be okay, y’know? But I just… I don’t know what I’m gonna do with this, where I’m gonna go.” He said, calmly nipping at his toast.

“Just go for it. Now you’ve got this degree you don’t want and don’t know what your gonna do with, make it your backup plan for if you crash and burn along the way. As far as we know, we’re only here once, so give all you got, right?” You explanation had been put fairly simply, you thought, but Dan’s face looked like he had just heard the voice of God himself advise him.

“Yeah. That’s definitely a good plan.” He said, still looking star-struck.

“Not a plan. The degree is a plan. This music thing is not a plan, it’s a _passion.”_ You said, smiling at Dan’s awed face. “And now ‘plan’ sounds all weird, bleh.”

The laugh he spouted out turned out to be just as beautiful as his voice.

After finishing breakfast, you both abandoned responsibilities to play video games, laughing the whole way. Before you drove him back to his apartment, you traded numbers and got invite to a karaoke thing Dan went to every once in awhile.

So you went, for lack of things to do and excitement to see Dan again. Your first meeting wasn’t that bad; you didn’t hook up and somehow managed to avoid the awkward tension that came with those situations. He managed to make a good first impression.

At karaoke, he greeted you with excited ‘hello’s, quickly introducing you to one or two of his friends before jumping into what song you wanted to sing. He was clearly excited for this, and it couldn’t help but be contagious.

You, on the other hand, said that _maybe_ you’d sing after getting a drink. After listening to a wonderful rendition of _“Pour Some Sugar On Me”_ you started drinking, finishing it with the words “Maybe I’ll sing after _one_ more.”

 

This apparently looped several more times before you woke up face down in your bed, nauseous and with a serious migraine. When you managed to stumble into the kitchen, you were approached by broccoli-brains with, ironically, toast and water with a side of tylenol.

“Is this going to be how me normally hang out? One of us’ll get wasted off our ass ‘till we drop at my place?” He laughed as you took the items, downing three pills and the whole cup of water. “Because I’m perfectly fine with that.”

And the rest of the day was spent just hanging out. Talking and enjoying yourselves just because you could. Smiling and laughing at every joke.

The truth is, you never planned for it to be this way. You never planned to use your oh-so precious psychology master’s degree on waitressing five of seven days a week. You never planned to use the well-earned sociology bachelor’s degree on being a barmaid at some shitty club that was about to go out of business.

Even when that happened, though, Dan was there. He said that he understood, and you knew he did. Hell, you met under almost the same circumstances. Similar at the very least.

When he moved to Philly, you followed. Not because you needed him. Not because you liked him in any way more than friends would. Not because you couldn’t pull your own weight or bear the thought of not having him around. You moved because a change of scenery always worked.

_Always._

When _The Northern Hues_ became a thing, you were fully supportive. Buying every song because you knew what it meant to Dan. He had finally found a place in music where he felt okay. If okay was where he was going to be, then so be it. It’s better than not-okay.

Meanwhile, you started studying business. Every aspect, from the types of people you should hire to accounting. Of course, you did have to pay the bills, so waitressing it was. After paying the bills, the top of your to-do list was filled with “something to do”, so might as well start with something you can use. _Unlike those damn degrees._

No one was surprised when you and Dan started dating. That was another thing you hadn’t planned for: being so childishly head-over-heels for a guy you found drunk at a party.

But, in all honesty, how could you not? He was there for you whenever you got home from work, having another shitty day with rude and snobby people who didn’t tip. It was too easy to complain about it, even easier to have a mental breakdown on bad days. But Dan was there, saying that one day you’d make it out of that stupid Chili’s and own a car and stop taking the bus and own a business to sell whatever you wanted. Knives? Good. Women’s fashion? Perfect. Fishing supplies? Why not. He knew you could do it.

In return, you supported him just as hard. Kisses on the lips when he wouldn’t shut up while he was making himself more stressed. Small words of comfort that meant the world when Dan’s old tenancies and insecurities came up. And for good measure, a hand to slap sense into him when he got too out of hand. You complimented each other in a way that you needed.

A way that _you_ needed.

 

It was another shitty day at work. A group of twelve people came in, complaining about how their food wasn’t coming out fast enough. About how the bathrooms were hard to find. About how service was slow when it was a Friday night and people weren’t even able to get seated. And they didn’t even tip 20 percent. In fact, it was probably less than 10.

It was inevitable that, when you got back to the house and found Dan wasn’t around to hold you while you screamed because _God damn it, I’ll never be rude to a waiter again,_ you crashed and burned.

You should have asked where Dan was rather than if he was there. Should have called, should have said something. Should have tried harder because clearly, it was your fault.

It wasn’t until late you got a text from him. Late as in midnight, closer to one.

**> i fucked up im sorry**

Was he drinking? He was so specific about how he typed, but not now. Now he didn’t care for punctuation like normal. What did he do? Fuck, he better not have been driving. You knew he had been stressed, and even if drinking wasn’t his thing, what the hell happened?

**> What the hell happened? Answer the phone**

You called twice to no avail. So you texted in the hopes he’d pick up. After five minutes of no answer, you called again, leaving a message saying, basically, “If you’re dead I’m gonna kick your ass so hard your grandchildren’ll feel it”. But no one answered.

**> Fuck, at least tell me where you are you giant shithead so if you are drunk i can fucking find you**

 

Dan Avidan had never thought he would cheat on a woman. That’s what he was thinking when he saw that text. He had never planned for things to go this way, and if he could have thought straight in that moment, he would have walked away. This was never planned for. It never really is.

 

**> jennys**

 

You knew her. Not well, but still. Dan was friends with her, and _fuck,_ you trusted her. You couldn’t do anything but. If Dan was drunk, a friend’s house would be the best place to go other than home, right?

**> Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll pick you and your wasted ass up.**

You wish so badly that you knew better. It should have been kept a secret. That was the plan they had made, after all. Wasn’t it?

Jenny’s apartment wasn’t far from the bus stop, and you didn’t have a car anyways. So after a short ride on the buss and a five minute walk, you were there, facing the apartment’s door. You’re small knock was cut off by the blonde’s opening of the door.

You shouldn’t have been shocked she was in nothing but a pair of panties and a lazily (and by that you mean inside out AND backwards, what a combo) t-shirt. You shouldn’t have been so stunned that she had the glazed over look of someone who was either stoned or just finished fucking. You shouldn’t have been so surprised by the tassel of her hair, faded brown roots showing.

You pushed her aside, quickly rushing into her apartment with no words. She, on the other hand was not wordless. She was speaking to you, but you blocked out her voice, trying to find Dan.

And there he was, sitting on her bed with nothing but a pair of boers. It was all too easy to put together. You wanted to throw up, bile raising to your throat. You knew that if you tried to open your mouth to say anything,  you would either puke or sob and if you were honest with yourself you didn’t know which was worse. Dan had his head in his hands, facing to the floor.

You knew your speechlessness only hurt him more, but you were stuck. There was no way to go. You thought you were about to collapse when words came out instead.

“I’ll move out by the end of the week.” The words almost took you by surprise, but you knew it was the right thing. There’d be no time to put in your two weeks notice, but it didn’t matter. You needed to leave, and if now wasn’t an option, you’d be out as soon as possible.

Your words made Dan look up. “What? B-but-” Fury suddenly started pouring out of you, spouting from lava that boiled in your veins and leaking out of your pores.

“There’s no ‘but’ about it, Dan! What the hell?!” You yelled. You didn’t care for the people that could have been next door. They didn’t know you, and if Jenny got in trouble for it, who cared. “What did I do? You know, if you wanted to have se, you could’ve just fucking told me. You didn’t have to-” Your throat clenched up again, but whether it was nausea or tears, you couldn’t tell.

“It wasn’t you! I-I’m so-”

“Don’t tell me you’re fucking sorry. I’m already on the verge of punching that pretty little face of yours, and I should probably leave before I bruise it so badly you can’t go on stage.” You were barely able to get the words out. “Thanks anyways. It was fun while it lasted.” You desperately wanted to insult him. Call him shit-face or ass-hat or anything that would have stung him as badly as this did.

You didn’t know where you were headed when you turned and left.

 

Things never work out the way they’re planned. At the very least, you knew that now.

 

Your bleeding, broken heart knew that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm supposed to be working on Blank Pages ahaha kill me-
> 
> Yeah but I hope you enjoy, there might be more than sadness to this in the future sooooo keep an eye out ;)
> 
> P.S. Every chapter title is loosely based off a song. This one is Little Talks by Of Monsters And Men, so you should check them out!


	2. I'm The Hero Of The Story, Don't Need To Be Saved

Another thing you hadn’t planned for: forgetting everything about Dan Avidan.

 

When you left, Jenny was pissed. She was screaming at you, but you used everything in your power to shut her voice out of your head. 

“Why do have to be so bitchy about it? Clearly you weren’t putting out, why would you blame him for wanting to actually be with someone?” She said. Her voice was too high pitched for your furious mind to handle. “Maybe he should be with someone else after all.”

There it was. The glorious breaking point. Where you turned to face her with a fire in your eyes not even Satan himself could have summoned to burn. She flinched at your sudden retaliation, watching as you slowly let the words leak out. 

“How about you shut your mouth before I replace those pretty little teeth with my fist?” The words were empty, you knew that. Dan probably did too, you wouldn’t actually ever hurt someone unless you needed to. Lenny, on the other hand, didn’t know this. She just stared for a moment before walking away. 

And so did you.

 

As soon as you got home, you started packing. You never really had much to own, so fitting it all into a backpack was too hard of a task. It was mainly just clothes that were shoved in there, along with maybe one or two keepsakes of Philly. And the two useless degrees that brought you here.

Normally, this is the part where your best friend or closest family member calls you, and then you tell them everything that just happened and they say they’ll go with you to Boston or Nashville or wherever the hell you’re heading. But you were strong, with or without people. You had been a normal, functioning person before Dan. You had made it through the hardest parts of life on your own. You could do that again.

If you were honest, you probably wouldn’t have let someone go with even if they had asked. You were ready to take on the world on your own. You swore that you’d make it through this strong, even if it was only for the somewhat petty reason of showing Dan that you didn’t need him and never had. Whatever got you through this. 

Instead of that miraculous best friend call, it was your manager. You picked it up, listening to his words about how you needed to take a double shift this Friday, a morning shift the next day, two evening shifts on Monday and-

“I quit.” Then the beeping of hanging up from you. Your heart was still pounding, but now it was with adrenaline and excitement. The thrill of quitting your shitty waitressing job and running away, alone and free for the world to take. You were ready to go now, pumped and maybe even happy. 

So you took the bus to the nearest Greyhound stop. On your way, you had counted all the cash you had. $207 with a questionable amount in change, mainly quarters which was good. 

This felt almost rebellious. Like running away from home to go to a party your parents had told you not to but you were a horny teenager in highschool, fire running through your veins. The next bus for Boston was leaving at 2:20 A.M., which was only ten minutes away, lucky you. Though it was a lot of everything you had, the 45 dollar fare felt like nothing. 

And you got on the bus, a smile on your face as the sound of running engines warmed you.

 

Boston was cold. Snow was falling furiously fast, clearly just as excited as you. Part of you wanted to start giggling like a little child that had never seen snow in your life, but God damn it if you weren’t cold. After digging for a coat, and then a second one, you called up a familiar number. 

“Hey, Mom?” You asked once she picked up the receiver with a friendly ‘Hello?’ “Yeah, I’m in Boston right now.” 

“What?! What happened? I thought you were in Philly!” She exclaimed. Truly, your mother was a loving lady. She wanted the best for you, no matter where you were. 

“Yeah, some things happened and I felt like I needed a change of pace. Once this blizzard dies down, could you pick me up?” All of your family on Mom’s side lived in Cape Ann, New England’s first fishing port. Grandpa had owned a fishing boat before the threat became too real for him, and he decided to turn that boat into a Whale Watching boat. Mom had been a bit of everywhere, having taken a full road trip around the country before coming home to settle down with Dad as a teacher.

“Yes, of course! You know you’re telling me everything that happened as soon as you can, right?” She must have assumed something very horrible just happened. Well, technically, yeah. But you were damned if it didn’t already feel years away. 

You nodded, then realized she couldn’t see you, then said a simple ‘yeah’ before hanging up. It was probably a stupid decision to walk to the nearest Dunkin’ Donuts with the weather like this, but at least it wasn’t in the middle of the night. That doesn’t justify it though. You still did, regardless. 

You might as well have had icicles sticking out of your nose with the face the cashier made. She looked shocked for a moment before you laughed, to which she nervously laughed as well. The roots of her hair were stark black, fading perfectly into a neon pink that matched the olive tone of her skin well. She had small eyes filled with emerald joy as she laughed at your snow covered body. 

“How’d you even get here to start your shift?” You ask, still giggling. 

“A thing called a car. You should get one once you get the chance, it’ll drastically decrease your chances of freezing to death. What are you even doing out there?” At least the place was empty as you chatted. 

“Going home, I guess.” 

“Where you coming from?”

“Philly. Took a greyhound and now I’m waiting for this blizzard to die down so I can get my mom to drag my back to Gloucester.” She smiled. 

“Why’d you leave?” 

“Boyfriend cheated on me last night.”

“Last night? You got out of there that quickly?” She looked surprised. 

“Yep.” Her eyes sparkled with hope. 

“You can just… Do that?” She asked. You smiled and laughed. 

“You just gotta be ready to do anything. And you gotta have people there for you, y’know? I got my mom, so unless you’re planning on going somewhere you’ve already been, you should probably grab a friend. But yeah, just go for it. As far as we know, we’ve only got one life, so live it now.” 

At this, girl smiled. Her green eyes sparkled with happiness. “Yeah! I’ve been wanting to go to college for a long time, so I’ll do that! Thanks, I guess.” 

You probably sounded way too wise for someone who just walked a whole mile in a blizzard.

 

The snow died down eventually after you got a small thing of hashbrowns. You sat down, waiting for Mom to get here. 

As you waited, you just… Thought. Was it right to leave so quickly? Maybe. Shouldn’t you have planned a bit more? Probably. Did this feel good as hell? Absolutely. But really, what was it that made the decision to leave? What made you decide home was the best place to go?

Maybe you knew you had to be the hero of your own story. Maybe you were stubborn and refused to be saved by anyone other than yourself. Maybe you didn’t want anyone to hold you because you could carry your own weight. Maybe, just  _ maybe, _ you could make it in this world just as alone as you used to be. Before Dan. 

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a buzz on your phone. You expected it to be Mom, but then you remembered. You hadn’t blocked Dan’s number. 

**> I know that you’ll never forgive me and trust me I don’t deserve it. I won’t beg for you to come back because I know you won’t but just hear me out. Wherever you’re going to go from here I hope it’s good because you deserve it. I hope you get to start your own business and stop waitressing and I’m going to miss you like hell but I’ll do it because I know that what I did was unforgivable. Thank you for giving me hope when I thought I was going nowhere.**

You hadn’t cried. Not once since you found out what Dan had done. You didn’t want to cry because he had cheated on you. You didn’t want to cry because of how bad it hurt to be betrayed like that. No, you wanted to cry because he was so fucking honest. He didn’t ask anything of you, and the multiple texts that sat on your little flip phone were not a request or begging or anything. They were closure, just as simple as that. 

Part of you wished you hadn’t left so fast just so you could slap him for being like this. For being so nice. For knowing what he had done wrong and not being bitter about it. For wishing you the best. 

**> Fuck, I’m sorry. I won’t talk to you again unless you change your mind but I’m really sorry. I know it doesn’t mean anything to you but it’s still there. Bye.**

He knew he had fucked up too big to get you back. And if that was true he would still try to make up for it. Cheating on someone is never fully a mistake, and he knew he could never use that excuse even if it was true. 

He’d known The Northern Hues was doomed. Everyone did, but nobody said anything. No one wanted to say it because it would just be another thing on the pile to cause stress. Nobody mentioned that the band itself was causing stress itself, though.

Dan did his best to talk to you about it. There was just a fact there, though, that said that you couldn’t help. It just wasn’t something you knew how to help him with, and you wished you could. He never blamed you for it, though.

So one day, when it got really bad, he went to Jenny’s. He talked about how he knew it just wasn’t working and so did everybody else and he wished they’d stop trying. Jenny eventually just sighed, getting out a beer for him as he kept talking. Then another. Dan had barely even registered that he’d been drinking until it all hit him at once when the third beer was finished. 

Jenny had always been flirtatious. But he would just laugh it off. But this wasn’t flirting, what she was doing. The way she carefully ran her hands over Dan’s shoulders, gently pushing him down on the bed wasn’t flirting. The way she smiled as Dan stuttered, trying to say he shouldn’t, he can’t, the way she whispered  _ ‘No one’ll know’ _ wasn’t flirting. 

But he could have tried harder. He could have stood up and walked away. He could have said something else. He could’ve done better. 

The thoughts rushed through his head the whole morning afterwards. After you’d left. He knew that he couldn’t ask for you to come back, so he wouldn’t. He knew you wouldn’t forgive him, so he didn’t ask you to. He just wanted you to be happy, and that’s all he was going to ask. For you to keep trying and be the hero of your story. 

**> Fucking shut up. I know someday I’ll forgive you but that day just isn’t today. Maybe someday we’ll meet each other again and I won’t want to punch your face in but right now I just can’t handle it. **

The fact you knew you’d be okay was comforting to him. Maybe it was too simple of a comfort, but it was all he had. 

**> And you’re welcome.**

That was the last of it. No more texts. You promised you were moving on the second you sent it. Once Mom came through the doors of the Dunkin’ Donuts, you could feel the memory of him fading. As time passes, pain turns to memory. You swore you would let that happen.

 

But then even the memory of that pain faded. For a summer, you worked at the family’s Whale Watch. It wasn’t very fun, but it wasn’t waitressing and it paid rent which is what mattered. Once the summer passed, you quit and started waitressing again. There was a stark difference between Latitude 42 and Chili’s, though. Latitude 42 was a fancy sushi place right by the shore, and with it not being a chain restaurant, you could actually talk to and see your bosses. People were generally nicer, too. And with the expensive food, a 20% tip was a lot more than it was at Chili’s. 

For a while, you still felt the sting of Dan on you. You could here a certain song, like  _ Wish You Were Here _ or  _ With Or Without You _ or another cheesy song that doesn’t begin with a ‘W’ and you’d feel the heartache come back. 

But then even that faded. You found yourself thinking of new people with new songs. Things felt okay again. 

Then, finally, you felt confident enough to start the business you’d been dreaming of for so long. After researching for months that turned to years, you found yourself ready to move again. You knew that a change of scenery always worked. 

_ Always. _

So you told Mom about your idea, and she approved. Grandpa and Grandma said that they’d be glad to give you a loan.So you got ready, packing boxes and renting a UHaul. You hadn’t gotten too many more things than you had in Philly, but you had furniture now, and that shit was expensive. 

 

It had been at least fifteen years since you’d seen Dan. You had forgotten him. He was nothing but a memory tucked into the back of your brain, an old t-shirt that someone accidentally threw behind the couch, now warm with the heat of the radiator it sat on, forgotten. 

But he had never forgotten you. He wanted to make up for the things he had done wrong, and if he couldn’t make it up to you directly, he’d do it by being the best person he could be for everyone else. He poured his heart and soul into being a good person, but in it, found that he was getting happier too. He still wished things had turned out differently, but that was in the past. 

So you found yourself leaving New England, ready to pull yourself to new town, a new adventure. You found yourself driving through the Smoky Mountains, watching as the sky claimed clouds from the trees. You found yourself surrounded by the Gulf of Mexico in New Orleans. You found yourself as just a speck of dust in space as you laid on the ground on the side of a highway in Nowhere-ville, Arizona. 

You found yourself driving past a sign that read “Welcome to California!”, and what felt like not long after, you found yourself staring up at the lit up city of Los Angeles. 

Welcome home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so some personal life things have happened. Feel free to move on if you don't want to get sad, but I just think it should be out there. 
> 
> I finally got an appointment with a therapist today, and after we talked for a while, she gave me a diagnosis. She said I do have depression, and though we're not medicating it right away, we might have to. This is a very big thing for me, and it might be hard for me to write through the hard times. I have some chapters of Blank Pages stocked up, fortunately, but I just wanted to let you guys know that I am fine, and I will continue to be even when it gets hard to write anything. Thank you so much for your support, it really has gotten my through the worst of this. 
> 
> Okay, away from that topic. Here's a few things I wanna tell you.  
> \- Always tip your waiter 20 percent or more.  
> \- Press charges if anyone does something to you non-consensually.  
> \- Take risks but don't die or else you'll regret life.  
> \- Wear your seatbelt. No joke, cars are terrifying.
> 
> P.S. This chapter's song is Hero by Regina Spektor, my favorite singer!


	3. Love Will Tear Us Apart. (Again)

It was a small music shop, just opened.

 

Of course Dan would be interested. They advertised that they had a bit of everything, ranging from vinyls to MIDI devices, from cassette tapes to basically any C.D. you could think of, anything you could ever want musically. They had a small starting, but within a few months, they seemed to be doing well as they got more items in and a much needed better paint job.

Dan just hadn’t found the time to go in. Ninja Sex Party was trying to record an ass-load of videos for both the second cover album and the next comedy album, along with Grumps still having to be recorded. Sometimes there just wasn’t enough time to do things.

But then, almost miraculously, he had the whole weekend for whatever the hell he wanted. No recording for a little while, no filming, no surgeries to get cysts taken off his face, nothing. Zilch. Nada. Complete freedom for the next few days.

So he explored. When he found himself in front of that music shop, it was inevitable he’d go in. Was that what your story was? A bunch of inevitables that all led to the same outcome? You didn’t know that at the time, of course, but maybe it was. Maybe this was some twisted sort of fate that you two found each other again.

He was just looking around, eyes scanning through the C.D. cases as he lightly bopped his head to _When I Come Around_ by Green Day as it softly played through the store’s speakers. When the song ended, you smiled as his rhythm faltered before _Buddy Holly_ came on.

It was the simple joys like these that made you love being in this store. It wasn’t like you had much choice, considering the fact you ran in, but still. You could play whatever music you wanted, and watch people make fools of themselves as they made out behind shelves where they thought you couldn’t see them.

Or the simple fools that hummed along with the wrong lyrics to the wrong song. The little foolish things they did, like trying to pull out one C.D. and nearly causing an avalanche of the whole shelf. The parts of them that danced along to the music when they didn’t even realise they were.

That’s what Dan was doing. Swaying his hips to the songs he didn’t know, singing with the ones he did, and trying not to cause a mess. So you just smiled when he started to look like he’d gotten lost, like there were too many words that meant too much.

“Looking, for something, fluff face?” You said, signature smile still painting your face.

And oh, God, his reaction. How would it have changed if you had said something different? If you hadn’t been smiling? If you said “Hey, you’re the asshole that cheated on me and then I proceeded to wipe from my memory. Thanks for coming back, now leave.” How would that face have changed? How would it have affected him for the rest of his weekend, or hell, even his life?

But you didn’t say that. You didn’t say that because recognising him as _that_ guy didn’t happen. You just laughed as he flinched at your sudden words. You smiled as he stuttered because no one’s been that nervous to talk to you since the CVS cashier with a stutter who expected you to be pissed at him for his quirk.

If only you could have heard the thoughts going through his head. The shock of someone suddenly talking was normal, because it was fairly quiet before. But when he saw _who_ was talking to him, panic and guilt filled his veins. _What if she still hates me for what I did?_ He asked himself. But at your smile, he started laughing himself, now just a giggling, stuttering mess because he couldn’t tell if you were laughing _with_ him or at him.

 

How much would life have changed for the both of you if you knew that it wasn’t his fault? If he knew that, too? What would have happened if that one text hadn’t sent, or you missed it and didn’t see it until he came back home in tears, guilty and scared and explaining that he didn’t mean for this happen? What if you had pressed charges on that girl and tried to get her arrested because no one should ever do that to anyone?

Maybe you’d never know what would have happened. Maybe you’d never know that you would have lost the suit, losing money as The Northern Hues finally broke up. Maybe you’d never know that you’d never find your way to New York and helping him make Skyhill, and you’d never have heard Peter say ‘I just don’t know what the point of it is’. Maybe you’d never know that you’d find yourselves fighting day after day because you couldn’t pay the rent and it was putting too much strain on the relationship. Maybe you’d never know that one day Dan would wake up and find nothing but a note on the other side of bed, explaining that you just had to leave because it wasn’t working out.

You’d never know that the Greyhound you tried to take that time would have been the one to crash, killing no one but you, the bus driver, and two other people. You’d never know about the hope Dan would lose when he found out as he gave in, using the advertising degree that he’d grow to forever hate. You’d never know of the break down he’d have every single God damned time _Wish You Were Here_ came on shuffle. You'd never know how it would have ended for Dan.

 

But none of that happened. You were now standing there, laughing as he stuttered nervously. Smiling because you didn’t know that this had to be the best option. It had to be cause it was the only one that was a reality. It was the one you were living right now, so it had to be the best.

“Are you just gonna sit there and stutter or are you looking for something, pretty boy?” Was it odd that Dan’s new first thought was _‘Wow, she really upped the ante on the sass in the last fifteen years’?_ He laughed at the thought before speaking.

“Not really looking for anything specific, unless you’d recommend something?” He asked. He liked your music, he knew. But then again, that _was_ fifteen years ago. How much had you changed? How much had he?

Fifteen years felt so long all of a sudden. Like a whole lifetime could have passed in the short amount of time. Could that be? How long does it take until someone realises how much has changed?

“Depends, what do you like?” You knew. That’s what he thought, at least. You knew that he’d loved Rush since he was probably twelve. Did you really not remember? Or was this just some trick to get back at him after all that time?

“Stuff like Rush, Queen, Joy Division, you know?” He could feel the high-schooler-like panic of ‘I look like an idiot for falling for this’ sink in. Like everything that was happening was just some trick to make him look like a dumbass. Or a jackass. Either one could happen, he knew. Both, while you’re at it. Why not?

“God,” You said through a few laughs. “You’re a loser. I know of something good, though, you’ll like it.” You walked around the counter, pushing a rolling chair out of the way to make your way out and to the shelves of C.D.s.

You were very meticulous how you sorted these when you first opened. People were at least polite enough to put things back where they were. Usually. All the shelves were labeled with genres. Rock, Pop, and Hip-Hop tended to be the most popular. Then, in those shelves, the artists were sorted out alphabetically, where their albums were put in order of release date.

Going to the Rock section, Dan followed. He followed your gaze as you found ‘K’, and then picked out the most recent album of The Killers. _Battle Born,_ it was called. You handed it to him, watching as he investigated the list of songs, and when he didn’t recognise any of them, he felt a small tinge of excitement. Something new to try out was always exciting.

“You’ve probably heard them before. They’re the same guys that made _Mr. Brightside,_ that one that was really popular with Rock crews in, what, 2005? This one’s a bit more Pop-ish, but it’s pretty good.” The way you spoke was barely any different than it was before, but what did he expect? You didn’t have the voice of someone that was just trying to sell another item for the extra cash. Maybe the situation was just too real to be happening.

“Yeah, I’ll take it then. How much?” Did he want to rush to leave? Maybe. Was this just way too real for him to deal with? Absolutely. Did he absolutely love this chance? **Yes.**

“Usually I charge fifteen, but you seem cool. Seven-fifty sound good?” You said, going back around the counter to the register. Unsurprisingly, Dan felt shocked.

“Yeah, totally. Thanks!” It sounded a bit like a question as you typed in the numbers.

“Aaand that come to eight-o-four with tax. Cash or credit?” Even in business-woman-mode, you sounded so casual. So human. Like this was just like any other exchange that would happen between any other two human beings on any other day.

“Cash. How long have you guys been open?”

“It would be about three months now? Yeah, opened up on the 13th of January. They said it was bad luck opening on Friday the Thirteenth, but I thought of it as a challenge. And, hey, business is booming. I practically could have afforded to buy a new car when Christmas rolled around.” You smiled as you talked, because this business was yours. Holy fuck, it was all yours. Sure, you had to work eleven hours a day seven days a week, but it was _yours._ Not like the apartment or the car. Purely you.

“That’s really lucky. A lot of small businesses like this go out really quickly because they don’t get enough business. You seem to be doing really good, though.” This was too much like catching up with a small friend.

“Definitely. Oh, and, when you listen to that, use headphones. It really adds to the effect.” That’s it. This was officially weird. How could you be so casual? How could you be so okay with chatting? Like two strangers and not people that ended on such bad terms?

That last texts came to him like a flash of lightning. It had been a shitty little flip phone that the texts had come on. Of course he’d gotten rid of it without thinking about those last words that meant everything at the time.

**> Fucking shut up. I know someday I’ll forgive you but that day just isn’t today. Maybe someday we’ll meet each other again and I won’t want to punch your face in but right now I just can’t handle it. **

Was this it? Was this the not-wanting-to-punch-his-face-in she had talked about? The ‘Someday’ had seemed so far away when she first talked about it. Maybe she was just holding back to make a sale. Maybe those three months of business had made her a good actress. Maybe she picked this album because it had a song she knew would sting him to hear. Maybe she hadn’t forgotten.

“Come back when you finish that disk.” She said. For some reason, a giant rush of happiness shot through Dan at that moment. Suddenly familiarity wasn’t guilt anymore, it was new. Like spring had finally found it’s way to his body and not just the rest of the world. “I’ll give somethin’ else to listen to. Have a good day, Dan.”

 

His exploring ended right after that. He had to listen to this C.D. immediately, fuck the free day if it meant finally getting to make it up for that mistake so long ago. He rushed to find the C.D. player that had been so long forgotten, and as soon as he was able to dig through his closet far enough to find it and dust it off, he realised he needed batteries.

More digging through the house. Fumbling through the junk drawer to find double-A batteries for the device. Finding them and feeling like he found gold. Then clicking the C.D. into place with a pair of headphones plugged in because that’s what she recommended.

The first song was actually fairly his style. A bit of synth and keyboard in the beginning, beat heavy, and with some great harmonies in the chorus. It wasn’t that song that got to him, though. It was the next one.

It was too easy to get lost in a song. To find meaning in your own life when it was someone else’s that inspired the tune. It was too easy to find yourself somewhere when listening to a song you really like, too easy to be nowhere.

 

_I knew it when I met you,_

 

What was it about music that was so entrancing? What was it that made the idea sound good enough for him to practically throw his degree away? What made the reward so worth it in the end? What made people decide he was good enough to give that reward to? How much had he lost in that search?

 

_I’m never gonna let you run away._

 

Dan wasn’t a very religious person. He wasn’t the type of person to think a song’s lyrics could point him in a certain direction. He wasn’t the type of person to think _This is most definitely a sign_ because signs hadn’t happened. Nothing told him that throwing away that degree would be the best thing to happen to him. No one told him that he’d make it, no matter what happened along the way.

No, it was her. She told him that we’ve got to live now or regret will consume us. So why follow the signs when there are real people telling you what you need to? Sometimes the grand scheme was misprinted, and maybe we should try to write over it.

 

_We can’t wait_

 

But what would he write? What could he say that wasn’t already planned out? At the very least, he could try. Try to find a way to write things out the way they would have been. Even better, the way he wanted them.

 

_for tomorrow._

 

Meanwhile, it was hours before you got home. Hours before you had a moment to stop and think about the day. But it was all just normal, wasn’t it? There was broccoli-brains, but-

You’d heard that nickname before. You’d _said_ it.

 

And you'd let his name slip on his way out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fuck. It's only been, what, two days since I last updated this? I've gotten so many supportive comments, and I just want to thank you all. For everything. Comments, kudos, even just reading. You all have no idea how much this means to me, and I can tell you I've never felt more excited to write than now simply because you guys like it. 
> 
> Thank you all, and I wish to you the bestest of days and the sweetest of dreams.
> 
> P.S. This chapter's song is Love Will Tear Us Apart by Joy Division!


	4. It's The End Of The World. Don't Blame Yourself.

His second day off in weeks, and he used it on coming back.

 

The album had gone by too quickly. The music was memorized too fast, too familiar too quickly. Fortunately, he liked the music. But sometimes those songs just aren’t enough. 

Truth be told, he missed you. He missed the casualness you always held, and how even when you were in a relationship, there were no expectations. It was like slapping a label on being what you used to be, rather than trying to push it further. He liked that you were okay with things falling into place however they would, and that you were always trying to pick the best options regardless.

How had you changed? A lot of things can change in fifteen years. He knew he had. What if you’d decided settling down was a good option? What if you decided to stop calling life an adventure somewhere down the line? What if you had found someone else and made a home with them and had kids and a whole new life that he had just missed?

But he was different, too. He was more thoughtful than ever, and probably the youngest he’d been in years as well. Two bands, a web series, and more in the works. What would you think of his life now? Would you be proud that he finally made it, doing what he loved?

How could so much have changed?

 

Work today. As usual. Work today, and tomorrow, and the next day and the day after that until you hired someone else to take a few shifts. Always working and using pay on nothing but bills. Because L.A. was probably the worst place to decide to start a business. 

Part of you wished you never moved. That you just kept waiting tables at Latitude. At least all the way out there, you had friends and free time and spending money. 

What’s that, you say? Christmas had earned you plenty of money? Not enough to get by. You always said you were doing better than you were because competition could be anywhere. Other businesses could be looking for holes in your system to pull you down with. Anytime, anywhere. 

Even furball. Especially furball. For all you knew, he was one part of another company now and was trying to tear you down for his bosses. Like a spy. A soft, emotional, giant-haired spy. 

Since when did he get to L.A.? Now that you thought of it, you never, not once in the last fifteen years, looked him up. You just stopped thinking about him entirely. Would it be a good idea to play a bit of catch-up? Probably not. If anything, it was a horrible idea. To see how great he’d been doing while you’d waited tables for years. 

But you still did it. You still decided to look up the simple search of “Dan Avidan” on your laptop in the hour before having to leave to get to the store. 

Of course he as a famous rockstar now. Of course he was, because he was able to do that. He was talented and smart and knew how to crawl out of anything. How’d he do that? How’d he drag himself out of those Philly days so strong? How’d he make it to New York, and when did L.A. happen?

Out of all the things Google pulled up, Game Grumps was a first. You might have heard it in passing, but you sure as hell never watched it. He had an Instagram account with 288 thousand followers, so whatever this Game Grumps thing was, it must either be or had been really popular.

You wanted so desperately to go deeper. To click that Wikipedia page link and find out his whole life story from when you left to now.

Part of you wanted to hate him. Not only for what he did to you, but for making it after you. For chasing that dream of his and actually succeeding. If you were completely honest, you expected him to crash and burn. You expected him to give in because this didn’t usually happen. People so rarely got achieve their dreams with nothing but hard work and struggling. 

So you sighed and closed the laptop, shoving it into it’s case so you could take it to work later. But there was still a good forty-five minutes before you had to leave.

The glint of a dusty, old guitar caught your eye. How long had it been since you played? You used to play almost every day after work, just enjoying the freedom of making up new chords and fiddling with the strings to make tunes to shitty little poems written on napkins during work. The thought of playing for shows or actually making songs had never really crossed your mind just because you never really thought of making a job of something you just enjoy. 

But you still didn’t think of it. You pushed it out of your mind quickly because you had a business to run and other things to focus on, like bills and taxes and other adult things. 

But all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, right?

 

At 8:30 in the morning, you rushed out of the house, realizing you were probably not going to beat the morning traffic and open late. You usually left around 8 just to make sure you got there on time to open at 10, and leaving even five seconds later than usual could mean an extra two hours you’re not open, not making any money. 

But miraculously, even after hauling both your laptop bag and guitar case to your car and rushing to town, you made it. Luckily, there was also a parking space right in front of the shop. Of course, your luck happened to run out immediately after parking your car, as you realized you had no change to pay the meter. You ran inside to grab change as quickly as possible, but by the time you got back out, there was already a ticket on the window.

_ Great, another 25 bucks I gotta pay to government that does nothing but rob me of my money with taxes . Asshole was probably watching me. _

The day from there on out didn’t exactly go great. Your guitar sat in it’s corner behind the counter, mainly untouched. You had been sitting there, fiddling with the zipper for God knows how long before the wind chimes hung on the door chimed, signalling someone walking in. Relief flooded through you before you looked up, seeing a familiar, fluffy haired man looking around. Just like last time, his eyes were wide with wonder as he looked around. 

“Hey, furball! You came back.” Play dumb. Act like he’s not famous, like you never knew him and didn’t now. Thoughts rushed through your head, exploring the possibility of you saying  _ “I remembered you last night and I don’t know what to say.” _ Did he remember you? You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t. If he just left that behind the same day he left Philly. 

But he smiled and laughed when you called him furball. He either must have forgotten or was denying that you were her. _ That  _ girl. The one he probably wanted to forget and never remember or see again. 

“Hey! How are you?” He was good at small talk. Making the day seem a bit more okay than it was before. Making a job a bit more fun and a little less obligatory. 

“Good, you?” You wanted to know. You wanted to hear how the whole last decade and a half was for him. How the hell he made his way all the way out here. 

“I’m good, thanks. I was actually wondering your name, I never got it yesterday?” It was so easy to make your day that much brighter. Just like the childish love you had for him all those years ago, you found yourselves laughing and joking around and somehow it never felt forced. 

He was still funny. That was almost a relief. He’d never become a stiff business man like you’d been afraid of him doing back then. If anything, he was even more funny. He knew how to time a joke and how to make you want to punch him in the face because he was doing just fine. 

This was a strange conflict of emotions. Part of you wanted him to be doing horrible in life because he’d done everything in his power to gain your trust and then broke it like it was a twig. But another part was proud. Proud because, at one point, he was your friend and he was absolutely lost in life. But now he was happy and famous and singing for a living. 

And the third part of wished you could quit being so stubborn and decide that people are too complicated. Go out into the Himalayas and become a hermit. Tell hikers and mountaineers to fuck off and stay off your lawn. 

Conversation wandered, and then ventured into the topic you’d been yearning to talk about. 

“So, how’d you get to L.A.?” You asked, casually leaned back in the rolling chair that you’d shoved to the side the other day. 

“Well… That’s a long story. A guy sent me and my bandmate an email, while we lived in New York, basically just saying that if we’re ever in L.A. he’d show us around. Then I came up to visit and got in touch with him, long story short, we’re best friends now.” He said with a smiled. “How about you? When’d you get here?”

“I saved up a shit ton of money waitressing at this place in my hometown while I studied business. Then when I had enough I got a UHaul and did a bit of sightseeing before crashing the party here.” You wished you could do that for a living. Just drive around the country and get paid. 

“What made you decide L.A.?”

“Honestly? I knew it was pretty. I saw a picture of Santa Monica a while back and just thought - don’t judge me, I’m actually kind of a romantic - ‘That’s the place. That’s where I’m gonna live.’ I haven’t made it quite yet, but I hope I will.” Why were you being so honest with him? This guy, who was practically a stranger to you now? 

“That’s… Actually really cool.” He said it with a fond smile on his face. Like it wasn’t impulsive and not-thought-through, just like most of your plans. His eyes were cast downward, looking through the shelves of C.D.s again. God damn those eye lashes. “Have you visited there yet?” And now he was looking back up at you, trying to show with every part of him that he was listening. Interested. 

“Not yet. Unfortunately, by the time I got here, I realized I needed an apartment and a job to actually function in society. So I had to get this place set up fast, so within two weeks, bam. Music store, grand opening.”

“No off days? It’s not that far of a drive.”

“No off days. For all I know the day I take off could be the day I would have made, like two thousand in sales.” You explained. You started fiddling with the zipper on your guitar case again, hands looking for something to do. 

“You don’t have any other employees?”

“Nope.”

“You work from 10 to 9 every day.”

“And?”

“Are you a workaholic?” He joked. 

“No,” You laughed, smiling as you kicked your feet up onto the counter in an attempt to relax. All this talking was starting to get to you. “Just a survivor.”

“Of what?”

“Today’s bullshit expectations of the 99 percent.” 

“You realize you sound like a total hipster, right?”

“But it’s true! People born into money don’t realize how hard it is to actually make profit. Hard work is just sometimes not enough, I’m just lucky it is for me.” It was surprisingly easy to talk about this with a smile on your face. Maybe it was the fact that you knew you could afford the ticket you got earlier that morning, even just barely. 

“Yeah, I guess. I’m a musician now, but the college years were tough for me.” He looked a little uncomfortable talking about it. You just nodded and let him keep looking through the C.D.s.

 

He left not long after that, grabbing a disk of a band you hadn’t heard much about and buying it, refusing to pay half price this time. After that, he used his receipt to write down his phone number, saying that you didn’t have to text or anything, but he was down to hang out if you ever got an free day. A big, fat, If. 

You spent the rest of the day picking your guitar strings until afternoon rush came in. By that you mean about five people coming in and looking around before leaving without buying anything. 

Then, at 9, you closed. 

Shouldn’t it have been classified as a normal day? Another day that you didn’t make enough cash for the daily quota? Another day that you had to hope Friday would be the day that sales suddenly went through the roof?

But it wasn’t a normal day. Because now there was an extra fifteen dollars to pay the bills in the register that a certain werewolf gave you. And you had his phone number on a receipt that you’d crumpled, nearly thrown in the trash, stopped and unfolded it, then did the same thing again multiple times.

What do you say? What are you supposed to say in this situation? Do you text him or not? Do you throw out his number and tell him to fuck off and never talk to you again? Because you sure wanted to do that. 

But it'd been fifteen years. You’d changed, and if that was true, then he must have too. He had to have changed, right? What ever happened wouldn’t, couldn’t happen again. Right? 

The screen was far too  bright against the darkness of your room, making you wince against the light as you sat on the bed. The bar just sat there at the beginning of the line, blinking. Waiting for something to be said. For you to make the first move. 

 

**> Hey. **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. This chapter's song is Goodbye To A World by Porter Robinson!


	5. I Wish You'd Say That You Loved Me All This Time

Hours turned to days turned to weeks.

 

It was too easy to be anxious when texting Dan. Every time those three little tell-tale dots popped up on your phone, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Every single time, you wondered if he’d say it. Say that he remembered you. 

But he wouldn’t and you knew that. You knew that because life wasn’t some cheesy rom-com where everything turns out okay in the end. People get hurt and some guy can’t just heal them right up. Especially not the guy that hurt them.

But somehow, you made it work. You made being friends work, acting like nothing ever happened. Maybe it was for the best. Maybe this was the best option for now, pretending everything was and always had been fine.

Dan would visit the store when he had the time. Usually, he’d end up buying something, but when the first time he forgot his wallet rolled around, you laughed.

“Who do you take me for? Some secretary trying to steal all your cash?” You joked. 

“Secretaries don’t take your cash!” 

Talking was so much easier than texting. There was less tension in the air. It wasn’t quiet, and you weren’t alone. Dan just had an air around him that made the whole world feel soft. Like you could jump and the ground beneath you would jiggle like Jell-O but it would never break the same way. 

Dan had definitely gotten wiser. You’d known he would back then, too. He always he this feeling around him that he could learn to do anything, teach himself how to drift through life and be okay with the scars and bruises it would leave. 

While he saw in you that you were happy. Struggling, but happy. You still knew how to take charge of your life like you did before. You still strived to be constantly getting better. Had you seen how much better things had gotten since the Philly days? Since you were stuck at some Chili’s off a highway while he chased dreams that ran faster than he could? 

He thought a lot about how things would have changed if that one thing never happened. Never dated this girl, or never met this person of never said this to another person. Things tended to rely on one another, and how would they have changed if that one link had never been made?

He somehow never regretted those decisions. You could see that clearly from the way he spoke of his two bands. The show you’d seen, Game Grumps.He was happy with the way life was and that made you happy. 

As a side effect of being a nice person, Dan had offered to take over shop for a day to give you a chance to relax. You shot down the idea almost too fast, though. This was your business. Your baby. You needed to take care of it. But the thought of a baby sitter was nice. 

But then came the day he came into the store and you were passed out in the rolling chair you’d come to love. And he carefully reached over to poke you in the shoulder. You had flailed your arms around wildly, afraid that it was someone who just wanted to by a vinyl but the cashier had passed out. 

“Hap- Ah- Dan? I-” You definitely seemed off, and you’d only been awake for a few seconds. “I, uh… I didn’t think you’d be here today, I-” You stopped talking at the confused glance Dan had on his face. “What?”

“Is something up? You’re… Tired to, to say the least. Have you been crying?” He looked concerned, the poor nice guy he was. Your face shifted from different expressions, trying to form a response. 

“I don’t cry.” You simply said. He scoffed with a small smile. 

“That’s completely believable, other than the fact that your eyes are puffy and a little red. Either you were crying or smoking, and that’s not very likely.” He looked at you for another moment before you sighed, resting your forehead on the counter. 

“Rent day’s coming up and I’m just a bit stressed about making enough cash. Then earlier I got another parking ticket. And then my laptop crashed while I was writing a really important email. It’s just been a shitty day. I’ll get by.”  _ You always do, _ he thought. 

“Okay, you really need a break.” 

“I can’t! Rent day’s coming up and one day could make or break my chances of keeping my apartment for the next thirty days.” 

“Then tell me how to work the register and how much things cost. I’ll take over for a day and you can do something you want to do, like take a trip up to Santa Monica or something. And before you say it, you don’t have to pay me.”

This made you look up at him, suspicion in your eyes. “If you don’t want me to pay you, what do you want?” There it was. Dan knew it when he saw it; the mistrust that always came with the mistake he’d made. Every time he saw it, it stung more than the last. Maybe you didn’t know how bad he wanted to explain everything to you. 

“Nothing. It’ll just be a favor because I’m your friend?” He offered. You leaned back in your chair, a sigh of relief escaping you as you leaned back.  _ What did I do to deserve you? _ You almost let those words slip from your tongue as you rubbed your eyes quickly and looked back to him. 

“I think that I’m friends with the coolest guy on this planet.” You said. The smile that was painted on your face, Dan felt happiness course through him. Not that this wasn’t normal. He liked making other people happy. 

He just simply couldn’t do this again. Not only was now the busiest time of his life, he just couldn’t bear the thought of having such a childish crush on someone he hurt that bad. The guilt had consumed him for so long after that day. He knew how bad that must have hurt. It just wasn’t right, falling in love all over again after hurting someone that bad. 

But in the meantime, he could be a good person. He was good at that. 

The next hour or so was spent training him, telling to open at 10 and close at 9 and showing him how to work the key because the lock was practically broken. How to work the register and the shitty, old iPad you used for credit card sales. He said that he had the next Sunday off work, so you made plans.

 

When Sunday rolled around, you woke up to a small ding from your phone. It took you a minute to realize that it wasn’t your alarm, but a text from Dan. 

**> Turn off your alarm and sleep in. You don’t need to worry, I got this. **

You frustratingly felt teary eyed at the simple message. How the fuck can someone be so nice? How do you do that?

**> Holy shit, you’re amazing. I’ll bring you lunch and dinner eventually once I finish sleeping the day away.**

You had almost fallen asleep before a reply came in. 

**> No need, I made sandwiches. Now sleep**

You rolled over and did exactly that.

 

A few hours later when you woke up, you realised that you had no idea what you were going to do. Exploring L.A. was probably a good idea, but where would you start? Of course there were always the big attractions, like Universal Studios or Disneyland, but you should probably plan and save up a bit more for those. Not exactly the type of decision you make in one day. 

There was always the option of finding a park or museum or someplace to just  _ chill _ in. Something you hadn’t done in a long and probably unhealthy amount of time. 

So you opened your laptop, quickly searching ‘Places in L.A.’ to get a whole list of Google giving you points of interest. There was Griffith park, but when you looked at the pictures, it didn’t exactly look like a park. It looked more like a tourist hub. 

But just a couple clicks away was the La Brea Tar Pits. It caught your eye quickly, and as you looked through the pictures, you only became more interested. Old bones and goop it is for today’s adventure, you guessed. 

Grabbing your phone and other items, you headed out, ready to start your real first impression of Los Angeles.

 

When you saw how much it cost to get in, you almost turned back. But this was your free day, and you refused to just go back home. Adventure is not something you would turn you back on. 

But was this really adventure? You used to go to parties, meet people and make stupid decisions and do things you hoped you’d live to regret. Was this really adulthood? Museums were considered an adventure, and a day off was a thrilling risk? 

You wished you could go back. Before you drove across the country. Before you made a life in your little Massachusetts hometown. Before you left Philly. Hell, even before Philly. Back to when you went to parties and got drunk and met Dan. Back to when friendship was toast, water, and tylenol. Life used to be so simple. But then real life got caught up in the mix. 

But the museum was nice. The simple educational value was nice, and maybe starting to do calm things was nice. Parties and dancing isn’t everything there is to life. 

You watched one of the tar pits as it slowly bubbled, like water starting to come to a boil. Part of you was tempted to touch it. Would it be like the cartoons? Would it stick to you and never come off? Or was it more like that weird slime stuff you buy in stores where it would just squish and have your fingerprints for a while before going back to a jiggly, Jell-O-like state? Was it dangerous to touch? 

Actually, the smell was probably the most dangerous part of it. Didn’t you use some sort of medicine that smelled like that for an infection when you were a kid? Because it smelled  _ bad. _

 

You ended up leaving around two o’clock in the afternoon, having spent somewhere around three hours in the place. 

Maybe you should check on Dan? Bring him lunch or something?

The urge to make sure both the store and Dan were okay overtook you. You drove over, finding a parking spot quickly and going in. 

Dan was sitting in your normal rolling chair, leaned back with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand. He glanced over, jumping a little seeing it was you. You laughed, making him relax again. 

“I’m guessing it’s been fairly slow?” You asked, Dan replying with a half shrug. 

“Kind of, but a few people came in and bought a ton of shit. Vinyls, C.D.s, a bit of everything. That came to a lot, so I haven’t been worried about having a ton of business.” He explained.

“That’s great! I was going to ask if you needed lunch or something, but you look covered. You sure you don’t want to head home and I’ll stay for the rest-”

“Nope.” He interrupted, already knowing what you were going to say. “You go and enjoy your free day. I’ll take good care of your baby.” He joked. 

“You fucking better. Thank you so much, really. I owe you one.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, now go enjoy yourself! Sleep the day away or something and just relax.” He said, shooing you away. 

“Okay, fine! Force me to have fun, Jesus. I need more friends like you.” You said, turning to the door. “See you later, fur-brains.” 

He said his goodbyes, and you left.

 

You just decided to go home and relax. But that relaxing just lead to over thinking. Day dreaming. You were just laying on your bed for a long time, thinking. Thinking. Too much thinking. 

Why was Dan being so nice? After everything that had happened? You’d barely even stopped to think about it. This felt good. How bad could it be? You knew you shouldn’t trust him. Not after what happened. But he was being so helpful. This free day gave you a chance to do all the things you’d been ignoring, like making sure you’d relax. No bad person would do this. 

But what if he was just trying to get you back to do something bad again? Hurt you like he had all those years ago? What if you weren’t strong enough to just move on this time?

You can laugh at a joke a lot. The first time you hear it, you laugh hard. But the more it’s repeated, the less you laugh. If the same joke is never as funny the second time, how come people can hurt you so bad so many times? How many times does it take for it to stop hurting?

But it was only one time. It was only once that this had happened. What if he wouldn’t do this again? What if you never had a chance to get hurt again?

This was too much. There was so much happening all at once.

What are you supposed to do in this situation? What do you do with this second chance that you’ve been given? This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, you knew that. You ran hundreds of miles away after that night with hundreds of unanswered questions. Could they still be answered?

Maybe it would just be easier if he said something first. If he’d stopped you as you left the store, calling out. 

_ I’ve been in love with you all these years and now that I’ve found you again I don’t know what to do. I’ve been wanting to find you and find a way for you to forgive me but I never knew how. Can I still do that? Because I’m still in love with you. _

Maybe you knew it was wishful thinking. That the words that echoed through your head, perfectly in tune with how his voice sounded weren’t his. It was just some childish fantasy and you knew it, but maybe someday you could change it.

 

Maybe someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. This chapter's song is Hold On by Angus & Julia Stone!


	6. I Want To Know A Thousand Reasons Why.

Dan just didn’t know how to say it.

 

It’d been weeks. Almost a month now, and no one had said anything. But Goddamnit he wanted to. He just didn’t know how to tell you. It’s not exactly an easy subject to bring up. 

He’d been hoping all night that you hadn’t been looking at his contact, watching as the ‘typing’ dots popped up and flashed for a while, then faded as he deleted the words he was going to say. 

**> I know we’ve been avoiding it, but we really need to talk about that night**

Nope. Too direct. He erased the words, mulling over them again. In reality, was there any good way to say this? Or were there just too many words in the English language to be able to string the right ones together?

**> Do you feel like there’s something we need to ta**

He deleted it before he could even finish it. It sounded too incriminating, like you had done something wrong when you hadn’t. It was never you. He just didn’t know how to explain that. He didn’t know how to explain that he was an idiot, that he could have tried harder, that he didn’t explain when he had the chance, that-

Too much thinking. Again. 

**> I’m sorry.**

This one sat for a while. He knew he wouldn’t send it, because it would raise too many questions. You would ask why he was sorry, and then he’d have to explain everything and he just couldn’t. He hadn’t even thought that in fifteen years he’d have to explain it. 

He’d never told anyone about it. Not Barry, who he’d been roommates with for a long time, not Arin, his best friend, not even Brian knew about that night. He’d never told anyone because he couldn’t bear to live through that again. To live through the whole thought of  _ This Is Wrong _ as it happened. He didn’t want to see the pain on your face again as you found him there, drunk and guilty.  _ Guilty. _

But a simple ‘I’m sorry’ wouldn’t cut it. The words didn’t show just how much he meant them, just how much he wanted to make it up to you and show that he never meant for it to happen like this. It didn’t mean enough. 

So he erased the words once again, mulling it over again before giving up and going to sleep.

 

Fortunately, you hadn’t noticed the disappearing and reappearing dots on your messaging screen. You’d found yourself miraculously occupied.

When you’d gotten home, after you stopped thinking about Dan over and over again, you could almost feel your guitar beckoning to you from it’s place. You quickly grabbed it, taking this chance to finally play once again. 

You’d gone to open mics, before. Back home, you’d go to this one little bar every Saturday and play guitar on stage for free while people tried to find themselves in the alcohol they were drinking. Maybe you could do that again, here.

A quick Google search brought up all the open mic places you needed. Picking one randomly off the list, you decided you might as well do it tonight. Better now than never.

 

_ Light me up a cigarette, put it in my mouth, _

 

The words slid off your tongue like water off a bird’s wing, natural and free falling. It had to be your favorite part of being on stage. Everything felt free, like nothing could bring you down. Even if the hounds of hell came biting at your heels.

 

_ You’re the only one that wants me around. _

 

People weren’t exactly tuned in. Some people looked, watching as your finger plucked the strings. Most people just talked amongst themselves, though. This was the simple joy of open mic nights. The fact that you were not the spotlight, but the background noise.

 

_ And I can think of a thousand reasons why, _

 

_ I don’t believe in you. _

 

_ I don’t believe in you, and I… _

 

You never looked for signs in what you sang. It was other people’s words you were singing, not your own. You shouldn’t look for solace in other people’s sorrow. 

But maybe it was possible to be drawn to certain words. To want to find that you’re not alone. Truth be told, you had a lot of trouble trusting Dan. Just being his friend felt hard enough as it was. There were just so many questions that you didn’t want to ask, didn’t want answered. 

But you did it anyways, because your loneliness and non-stop working were probably the most crushing things in your life in years. It was so difficult to work knowing that it was just… A little endless. Not completely. Finally, you had a break, but you didn’t know how to feel.

 

_ I’m not yours anymore. _

 

That was just the reality. You had been hurt and now you didn’t know how to forgive him for that. But now he was back and being better than ever before and you didn’t know how to feel. 

You wanted him to have changed. You wanted him to be happy. 

You wanted him to want you to be happy.

 

Apparently, people liked your performance. A younger woman, probably in her early twenties, asked if you had a YouTube channel or had thought of making one. You hadn’t even considered it, but all of a sudden, it felt possible. Maybe you could start off with something small, just a toaster-level recording with some shitty acoustics and then post that. See how it does. 

Your performance also landed you with a guy trying to hit on you offering to buy you a drink. You refused with a simple “Sorry, I don’t drink.” Of course, given past experiences, that wasn’t true at all. You just needed an excuse because a relationship was the  _ last _ thing you needed right now. 

Maybe be a famous rockstar like Dan could be fun. You could perform at bars around L.A. like this until some producer guy comes up to you and helps you make an album, like some cheesy rom-com. Maybe someday.

 

“Hey,” Arin said to Dan. They’d been recording for hours on end at this point, and it was at about this time the serious conversations came up. Drunk off of sleepiness as probably the worst type of drunkenness. “What’s something you really regret?” Arin seemed to have a way with making serious questions casual. 

“Other than the  _ one _ time I had Taco Bell and my asshole hated me for the next week?” Dan replied with, glancing at Arin through the corner of his eye. He let out a small, tired laugh as he moved his mech towards the golf ball. A random episode of 100ft Robot Golf was probably an odd episode to talk about something that serious. 

“Yeah, like, is there anything in your life you would have changed the outcome of? Or something,” Sleep stained his voice, but Dan could still hear the curiosity. 

“Well… Shit, I mean, yeah. Well, no, my life is fucking amazing and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But… There are some things I wish had gotten resolved, y’know?” He spoke smoothly, just thinking as he moved the mech to hit the ball once more. 

“Is this too deep for the show? Or do you wanna keep going on this?” Arin asked, glancing over at Dan. That was something he really appreciated about him; he was cool with boundaries and wherever they’d lie. Dan shrugged. 

“I guess not. I mean, I did talk about my OCD in college on some random episode of WindWaker, so… Why not?” He pulled himself up, getting comfortable. 

“Okay, what was it then?”

“Well, right after college and stuff, I was all confused about what to do with my degree and stuff, right? I ended up going to this party out in the woods, and I got blackout drunk. Next thing I know, I’m awake on a stranger’s couch with a massive headache, and then toast is being shoved into my face.” 

“I thought you didn’t like one-night stands?”

“It wasn’t!” Dan laughed. “No, apparently this girl started talking to me and I drunkenly told her that I had no clue where I was going with my life. So she-”

“She pity-fucked you?”

“Dude!” Dan laughed, tapping the ball into the hole with his mech. “No, she basically just realized I was too drunk to drive so she took me home and let me crash on her couch. She was actually the one to convince me to go after music.”

“No shit?”

“Yeah! And we ended up moving to Philly together, and eventually we started dating, but… Actually, now that I think of it, this might be a little too fucked up to put on the show. But we can’t just cut it now, should I keep going?” 

Arin shrugged, looking at the timer. “I mean, it’s too late to stop now.” 

“Well, shit. I guess people should just skip ahead if this is a sensitive topic? Matt, Ryan, whoever’s editing, put up a time stamp to when the story’s over. So basically, When the Northern Hues started to have problems, I was really stressed. I had to keep up with two jobs as well as the band, the girl I was with had to as well, it was kind of a mess. Well, I ended up talking to one of my friends, and she’d casually flirt with me and stuff, but it never went further than that. 

“But one day, I was really stressed out and talking to her about it, and out of nowhere she gives me a beer. I didn’t even think about until I ended drinking, like, three and my alcohol tolerance is shit. I was drunk off my ass and then she decided to make a move on me, and I just… Couldn’t really do much about it. And you know me, I was in a relationship, I wouldn’t have done that if I could have avoided it. 

“But it happened, and when I was sober enough to, I ended up texting the girl I was with where I was, and I couldn’t explain what had happened to her. So she left, and, uh… I haven’t seen her since.” That was a lie. He knew it was a lie, but he couldn’t give it away. 

“Holy shit. Dude, that’s seriously fucked up.” Arin’s concerned-friend-voice was on now, making him look over at Dan. 

“Yeah, but you can’t really change it now. Plus, I ended up here with the best job in the whole world, so it turned out fine.” Dan smiled, though he knew that Arin could tell.

“Shit!” Arin cursed as Dan got the ball in the hole. Dan laughed before speaking again. 

“I haven’t heard from that girl since back then, and that was fifteen years ago. But I did hear she moved out to L.A., and opened a music shop somewhere.” He said a smile on his face. If she was listening to this, which part of him hoped to whatever God that was out there that she wasn’t, he hoped she’d hear this part and know that he hadn’t forgotten. 

“Maybe I’ll track her down sometime soon, bring her to you and let her punch you in the face.” Arin joked. Dan was glad he was making light of the topic, the subject a bit too heavy for joking not to happen. 

“I wouldn’t blame her to be honest, I’d be pissed too.” He laughed. 

 

When it was time for next time on Game Grumps, Arin turned to him with his serious face on. Dan was taken by surprise by the sudden look, but didn’t question it. 

“Okay, first of all, you’ve been acting weird for weeks now. Now that story? What’s going on, dude?” He asked. Dan felt his heart pound in his chest suddenly. 

He’d never talked about this before, and he still wasn’t sure if he was ready to. “What do you mean?” He asked, trying to act oblivious. Arin just pursed his lips and scoffed. 

“I’m your best friend, you’re not allowed to play dumb with me.” 

Dan sighed in response. “Listen, I don’t know man.” 

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know!” Dan agonized. Arin sighed. 

“This girl you dated. You found her, didn’t you? That’s how you knew the music store thing.”

Dan sighed again. “Listen, I just don’t know. I mean, I feel like we never got over this, so I’m trying to make it up to her.” 

“Have you even talked to her about this yet?”

“How do you always know these things? No, I just don’t know how to say it.”

“The longer you wait the harder it’ll be.”

“Yeah, well, I’m older than you so shut up.” Dan joked, trying to move the subject. Arin laughed, turning to the microphone again. 

“Well, if you need to talk about it, I’m here. One more episode?”

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things:
> 
> -Dan's instagram recently had a video of him dancing to The Killers, which made me freak out.   
> -My love of writing fanfiction earned me the English credits I needed for this year. Yay cheesy romance!  
> -I'd like to give a huge thanks to a great writer and friend of mine Thelynnlynn for beta-ing this for me. Looking back and seeing all the spelling errors was making me cringe so hard, and I hope there's less now.  
> -Wear your seatbelt
> 
> P.S. This chapter's song is I'm Not Yours by Angus & Julia Stone!


	7. I Have Nothing Left To Lose

**> Meet up at the store, 15 minutes**

 

The text came so suddenly, Dan thought he’d dreamed it. It had to be only, what, 10 o’clock? Weren’t you usually just opening up shop? 

**> What? Why?**

He replied with simply. 

**> I know it’s your day off, and we’re going on an adventure so shut up and get your skinny ass over here.**

He smiled at how much like the old you this was. The you that would go to parties and get drunk and sing horrible karaoke before needing to get a ride back home. 

**> Okay then, bossypants.**

 

He made his way over quickly, going inside the store to hear talking. 

“-And you remember how to do credit card sales?” He heard you say to a girl that stood behind the counter. She was fairly tall, and looked young. Blonde hair was held in a ponytail, and excited brown eyes sparkled behind a clunky pair of glasses. 

“Yes!” She said happily, an excited smile on her lips. 

“Holy shit, you actually hired someone?” Dan said, happiness filling him. Finally, he could spend real time with you. 

“You bet your sweet ass I did! This is Tinsley, and this is Dan.” You said, turning to Tinsley to introduce her. She smiled brightly, an excited look on her face. 

“It’s good to meet you!” She had the cheeriness of a good cashier, something that you’d noticed immediately. 

“And now I can finally get a tour of L.A.! And you’re gonna be the one to take me. Right?” You said with a smile on your face. Dan scoffed, just thinking about how puppy-like you looked as you looked him in the eyes with the curiosity of a three year old. 

“Fuck yeah!” Dan answered, looking equally as excited as Tinsley did. 

“Then go! I can take care of things here.” Tinsley said. You reached over and hugged her once before excitedly saying a quick jumble of words that sounded along the lines of “Let’s go now”. 

 

You walked out to the car with him, listing off all the places you could go.

“Okay, okay, let’s just slow down for a second. Have you even eaten breakfast yet?” He spoke with a laugh in his voice, something you quickly realised he did often. 

“Yes, I made toast before I left. Now, where should we start?” 

You spent a good half hour just sitting in your car, talking about places to go. You considered Disneyland, but that was on the other side of town from everywhere else, and it costed way more money than either of you had. 

“How about Griffith Park?” Dan offered. “It’s got the observatory. I don’t know if we can go in right now, but it’s still a super nice place to just chill.” You nodded, remembering how the stars looked when you passed through Arizona. It felt like years ago, now. Had it really only been a few months? 

You were losing track of time faster and faster. The far-away years felt like yesterday, and the weeks you traveled only 4 months ago seemed so far off. Either way, you were here, and finally you had that drop of freedom you’d been craving.

Eventually, you decided on going to Griffith Park first, and Dan was insistent on going to the Homer Laughlin building for lunch so you could explore Little Tokyo. 

“What about dinner?” You asked. Dan’s face lit up, a sudden thought putting a familiar smile on his face. 

“That,” He said, turning in his seat to face the road. “Is a surprise. To Griffith Park, then?”

“You’re the boss. Let’s head.”

 

The sunlight was absolutely refreshing. Sure, it was swelteringly hot, but your hours spent outside were usually spent when it was dark or rushing to get shop open. You ended up just laying on the grass, you in the sunlight while Dan sat in the shade of a tree. 

“You sure you’re not too hot? There’s room.” 

“No, this is perfect.” You sighed, eyes closed as you smiled against the sun. You just layed there for a long time, until gasping and jumping up, remembering something. You rushed to the car, grabbing your guitar from the back and rushing over. 

Dan watched, confused. “I didn’t know you could play guitar!” He said as you sat back down on the grass. 

“Yeah, I started learning about… Ten years ago? Probably more like twelve, I don’t know.” You said, sitting back down in the grass. You thought for a minute, trying to think of a song to play. You hummed for a moment before deciding. 

Dan watched as you started, admiring the way you fell into the song. Watching the way you strummed before he recognized the song, singing along once it started.

 

_ Once in a lifetime, the suffering of fools. _

 

You’d forgotten how much you loved his singing. You’d forgotten that kareoke night that you first heard him, hearing him sing  _ Pour Some Sugar On Me _ while promising you’d sing before blacking out.

 

_ To find our way home. To breaking these bones. _

 

_ Once in a lifetime, _

 

_ Once in a lifetime, _

 

He swayed his shoulders to the beat, the same way he had when he’d come into the store and heard the music on the speakers. You smiled, looking up and seeing people watching. Someone had their camera out, recording the two of you. You felt a little shocked, but happy as the chorus came in.

 

_ Give me a shot at the night.  _

 

_ Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious, _

 

_ Give me a shot at the night.  _

 

_ Give me a moment, some kind of mysterious, _

 

You hummed along the whole way, losing yourself to your own music. You payed the whole song out, Dan singing all the way. 

When you finished, a few people applauded. Suddenly, you found yourself bashful, of all things. Dan just smiled at you. “You’re really good at that!” He praised. You shrugged off your stage fright to turn to him. 

“Oh, look at you, Mr. I-Sing-For-A-Living! You’re, like, the sing-y-est singer I’ve ever heard!” He laughed, leaning over with the face of a dog who just got told they were going on a walk. 

“You think?!” He said with mock enthusiasm. You both laughed, smiling brightly with each other. 

But Dan had so much more on his mind. More than just a song you both liked. More than the guitar you’d mastered and played so beautifully. More than anything, he thought about the first days that he thought like this. The days that came before him working up the courage to ask you. 

 

It was a day that you’d both been off work, a holiday probably. He remembered how nervous he’d been, and he wondered if you noticed. But he knew you, and he knew you weren’t one for big, all out confessions of love. So he just forced himself to be casual when he asked,  _ “Hey, will you be my girlfriend?” _

Most of all, he remembered the gaze you pulled from the television, a smile on your face as you leaned over to him, letting out a “Hell yeah” before he smiled and leaned on the same as you had done. He’d still felt nervous, like you were just kidding, but as the day continued on and the was spent just cuddling,  _ he knew you meant it. _

It’d been the same when you left that winter night, and never came back home.

 

You’d sang a few more songs with him before you’d left. Hell, you’d even gotten a few tips from people as they passed by, all of the money going towards lunch. 

You two ended up spending most of the time talking about Game Grumps. Dan had so many wonderful stories about the show, from Arin’s breakdown about Helena all the way to the endless laughter of Mickey Mousecapade. 

“I know you’re super busy with the store and stuff, but when you get the chance, you should really watch. Just ‘cuz it’s funny, and I have fun. At least I think it’s funny, I-” You laughed, interrupting his nervous ranting. 

“Dude, calm down. I get it, right? You have fun with this and want to share it. Don’t act so hesitant about sharing your happiness.” You told him. He smiled, a familiar one to you now. Always genuine and soft. 

He turned his gaze to his tea, held by both of his hands wrapped around the mug. “Thanks,” he said softly. Thoughtfully. You followed his smile, noticing the blushing light on his cheeks as he lifted the cup, taking a sip as you fell into comfortable silence.

 

You spent way more time than necessary in Little Tokyo, but there was just so much to do. You went in and out of so many spots and tourist attractions as if you didn’t live here. You ended up buying a copious amount of snacks when you found a store that sold them for cheap.

When you finally started getting hungry again, you tried to get Dan to slip out what that surprise was by asking, “Hey, where were we planning on going to dinner again?” You spoke with an innocent voice, hoping to play dumb. 

“We never said, because I never told you.” He said, as if on cue. He looked at you with a knowing gaze, making you playfully pucker your lips. You sighed. 

“Fine. Let’s head back to the car, then. So we can see your  _ big surprise _ or whatever.” You shrugged, walking with him. 

 

The car ride was nice. The sun was just about to start sinking over the horizon, making the skyline turn into a perfectly faded orange that blended into the darkening blues of the sky. Dan made you close your eyes at one point, playing his cover album as requested. 

“You’re doing so much  _ stuff _ in your life. Like, two bands, an internet show, didn’t you mention a YouTube Red show too? Professional acting and all that?” You said, leaned back in the passenger’s seat with your eyes closed. 

“Yeah, but look at you. You own a business!” He said. Always looking on the bright side. You just shrugged. 

“Yeah, I write down numbers while you dress in spandex and pelvic-thrust your way to victory. Whatever floats your boat, though.” The phrase made Dan spit out a heartfelt laugh, giggling a bit as he spoke. 

“Oh, my God, I haven’t heard anyone say that in  _ years!” _ He said, smiling. You were about to respond when the car stopped moving, Dan shutting the engine off and hopping out before you could say anything. 

“Where are we?” You asked. 

“Get out of the car and look!” You did as he said, scoffing as you pulled yourself up, unbuckling and getting out, looking to the ocean where Dan stared. 

 

“Welcome to Santa Monica Pier.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave up on trying to keep my stories down to 2 at a time~ Basically that means there are 4 ongoing project right now with a one-shot on it's way. 
> 
> This chapter's song is Shot At The Night by The Killers!


	8. We'll Be Two Wolves In The Dark, Carried By The Wind

You just stood there, mouth agape at the scene ahead of you.

 

The sun had perfectly perched itself on the horizon, painting the sky with strokes of purple and streaks of red, bleeding through it’s blue canvas. The clouds were stained pink, coloring through the sky softly. The ocean ran for miles onwards, and though you’d lived by the east coast for years, this was different. California was suddenly a completely new, fascinating place of fantasy. Like a dream. 

And you were giggling like a madman. Bouncing on the balls of your feet because this was  _ exactly _ how you dreamed this would be. This was what it looked like in all those childish fantasies you’d remembered to dream of when business was slow and rent was creeping up again. This was the sight that made you remember to keep hope. 

But you still somehow had forgotten. You had your day off and forgot to come to you senses and dream again. 

Dan watched as you jumped around like a kid. He smiled, knowing how good it must have felt. After recording that YouTube Red show for show long, he could still remember the exhaustion of coming home every day, aching mentally and physically. And you’d been doing the same amount of work for five months straight. 

“Ooooooh,” You said, your voice light and bouncy as you were. Dan laughed, feeling the clenching joy of your happiness in his chest. This was it; the feeling he lived for. Watching that he could have that direct of an effect on a person, that he could make someone that happy.

“Where do we go first?” He asked, smiling widely. You looked around, still over excited. 

“The ferris wheel is so pretty,” You acknowledged. Dan laughed again, starting to walk down to the pier. You followed, looking around everywhere. 

“Yeah, totally. I can’t believe you didn’t guess we were coming here!” He said, laugh in his voice as usual. You sighed. 

“Yeah, well maybe I’m just stupid!” You joked. “You can’t even tell me that, I already know.”

 

You kept joking and laughing with each other as you approached the ferris wheel, getting in line and enjoying yourselves the whole way. You’d insisted on paying for tickets; Dan had picked up the lunch bill and you’d felt guilty about it, even though he  _ insisted _ it was fine.

You didn’t expect yourself to be as excited as you were, but as you got on, you felt jittery and happy beyond control, just like you had been when you first got out of the car. In your mind, it was Christmas fucking morning, and you’d just walked out to thousands of presents stacked in your living room, all addressed to you.

Okay, maybe you weren’t  _ that _ excited, but still. You were pumped. 

Conversation faded when you entered the glass case. Sitting down across from each other, you stared out the window, basking in the comfortability of the silence as the ferris wheel groaned to life. You watched as suddenly, the world widened before you as you rose into the air.

The moon glowed against the water, sparkling on the surface of the salted seas. You partially wished you could dive right in, take in the glory of the ocean with more than just your eyes. But you couldn't, because you were in this glass case, high above the ground. You could almost feel the glow of the ferris wheel around you. You closed your eyes, hoping to breathe for just a moment before you opened them again, not being able to look away from the view. 

God, Dan thought, this is cheesy. He knew what he wanted to say. What he wanted to do. But he wouldn't allow himself to do it. Not yet. It was too soon, he told himself, it had been too long. What if you were still not able to trust him? He wouldn't blame you, if he was honest with himself. 

He wanted to kiss you. As you looked out against the ocean, eyes glittering with a stunned awe he couldn't hope to describe, he wanted to kiss you. And he hated it. Because he'd convinced himself he didn't deserve it. Because he didn't, not after everything he'd done to you. 

It was like those rambling thoughts from so long ago came back, biting at him. The constant voice in his head that tried to convince him he wasn't good enough. 

What would you have done? If he had kissed you in that moment? If he'd managed to pull your gaze away from the sea, and make you close your eyes once more. If he'd just done it, and then you pretended like it never happened. Like you had with everything else. Just pretended like it hadn’t mattered. 

Maybe you would have slapped him. Maybe you would have ripped into him, screaming and crying because he'd hurt you so badly, and now he didn't have the right to come back and make you love him again because some part of you begged to believe he'd do it again. 

Or maybe you would have accepted it. Maybe you would have given in, approaching him with those terrifying words. "We need to talk," You'd say, and you'd see the fear in his eyes as he looked at you, but said okay anyways because he wouldn't let that scariness get in his way. Maybe you would have found a way to talk about it, finally. 

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind what you'd do if he kissed you. You were too entranced with the ocean, so much so you thought Dan had all but disappeared. Because he hadn't spoken or anything, he was just sitting there, watching you. Smiling because he was so happy that you looked happy. And he wanted to see that more. He loved the way happiness looked written on your face, in your lips and your eyes. 

The ferris wheel started moving again, making Dan jump just enough to push a small gasp out of him. You turned to him and laughed, feeling the joy in your gut as genuine as the day you'd met him. You laughed more, realizing that he'd been startled by the movement of the ferris wheel. "Then what was I been laughing at before?" You wondered. 

You shrugged off the question, just watching as Dan started laughing too. "Fuck," He said, giggling. "That scared me."

"You're a fucking pussy, Dan." You laughed. “I’m gonna make you watch a horror movie with me someday.” The ferris wheel slowly spun, bringing you back down to the ground. You were able to loop around a few more times before having to leave.

 

You both had quickly run over food options as you walked down the pier, eventually just shrugging off the question and walking down the barren part of the pier, occasionally making remarks about something you heard.

Dan spent most of his time stealing glances at you. He hated to admit it, but somehow there was no doubt in his mind that he knew where this was going to end, and he knew it could only be bad.

He hated that he still had that voice of self-doubt in his head, hanging over him like looming storm clouds. He hated hearing it tell him all the bad things, and that’s why he always tried to list the positive. Always tried to look at the bright side, even when that voice pulled him towards the darker one. 

“Have you ever thought about being in a band?” He asked suddenly. You hadn’t known, but he was hoping to silence the voice in his head as it whispered.  _ There’s no point in keeping this friendship going, _ it said,  _ why do we have to keep on trying? _

You shrugged, thinking about it. “Kind of? I mean, it’d be cool, but I don’t know if I could handle it. That’s a lot of stuff you gotta do, you know? Too many chances to fuck it up. On that note, you’re really lucky.” You said. Dan looked at you inquisitively.

“Why’s that?”

“You didn’t fuck it up. In fact, you’ve got it pretty good for a rockstar. You’ve got a lot of caring, lovely people on your side. More than most people do.” You explained. Dan felt a strange pang in his chest, making him smile. 

“Yeah, but I had two bands before these ones, I fucked those up.” He laughed. You smiled, but kept on talking. 

“You kept trying. That’s the important part. You could have given up after that second band, said ‘fuck it’ and just went to miserable plan B.” You didn’t look at him, you didn’t dare to. Speaking this heartfelt-ly with Dan was on the verge of embarrassing. “Why didn’t you?” You asked, the question suddenly ringing in your mind. 

He looked thoughtful for a moment. “I don’t know. I mean, after Skyhill ended, I was really heartbroken. Then I heard stuff like The Lonely Island and other comedy music, and I thought ‘Oh, I’m funny!’ and just thought I should give it a shot. Then I met Brian, and I guess the rest is history.” He explained. You smiled, nodding. 

“Skyhill?” You inquired. Dan’s face heated up, and he just had to hope you didn’t see it. There was a good reason for that blushing, too. At least one of those songs was about you. In fact, most of them were. Part of him wanted to act like it as nothing, like a one-night-stand but a band, but he couldn’t bring himself to. The Skyhill days were important to him, one of the most important. 

“Yeah, it was when I lived in New York. Around 2006 and ‘7. We only made one album, but we did end up making another single two years back. I’d be down to do more with the guy if we both weren’t so busy, y’know?” He said. You nodded, attentive to every word he said.

You both eventually made your way to the end of the pier, looking out over the ocean. It was so utterly vast, and though you'd lived near it for years in Boston, you couldn't help bt get the feeling that this was different. Like the salt of the west shore had a different taste than that of the east. 

Your legs were dangling off the wood, arms leaning against the wooden bars of the fence. You sighed, leaning to carefully place your head atop your crossed arms, feeling relaxation fully sink in for the first time in what felt like years. 

"This is really nice, Dan." You said, genuinely happy in the moment. He sat next to you, smiling with you. 

"Of course. Anytime." His voice was just as calm and relaxed as you felt, watching the moon glimmer on the surface of the water once more. Just like on the ferris wheel. "You hungry at all?" Dan asked suddenly. 

"Are you?"

"To be honest, not really." He said, looking out over the ocean with you. You laughed. 

"Same here. I'm actually getting a lil' sleepy." You said, eyes drifting over the surface of the water lazily. You could hear Dan smile, practically. 

"We can go any time you want. You have work in the morning, right?" He asked. You nodded. "Yeah, so I'll get you back by midnight at the latest so you can get all the sleep you need." He said. It still shocked you sometimes, how caring he was. He'd always been like this, taking every detail into account to make sure no one got hurt, and then completely forgetting he had to take care of himself, too. 

"That sounds great. Thank you, Dan." You said with a smile painting your face. 

"Yeah, it was no problem." 

"Seriously, though. I kind of just dragged you out of your apartment of a perfectly good day and made you take me around the city, and you've been so patient. Thank you." You found yourself rambling and not being ashamed at all. 

"You didn't 'make me' take you all around the city. I seriously enjoy spending time with you, y'know. You don't have to be afraid to drag me out of my apartment." He explained, making you smile more. 

"That means a lot to me." You said, sleep starting to stain your voice. Dan nodded.

"Well, it's all true. You want to get headed? You sound really tired, and to be honest, I'm startin' to get sleepy too-" His voice was interrupted with a comical yawn, loud as he covered it with his hand. You both laughed, starting to get up. 

"Yeah, let's head." You murmured, stretching out as you started walking back. 

The drive home was a quiet and peaceful one. You'd both taken your car, and he insisted on driving, so he basically just dropped himself off at his car. You'd both gotten out, hoping to give him a hug goodbye. 

"Tell me next time you have a day off, we should totally hang out again." He said, making you smile and nod. 

"Totally. See you then." You said. Just before you got the chance to walk away, Dan did something you'd never expect. 

He carefully placed his lips on your forehead, and if anything, the kiss felt friendly. Reassuring and genuine. And suddenly your whole body was on fire as he walked away, waving goodbye before walking to his car. 

 

You didn't think you'd ever stop reliving it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's something we all need to talk about. Anyone who follows Game Grumps fan blogs on Tumblr knows about this incident. For those of you who haven't, here's what happened. 
> 
> Dan, on the first show of the Rock Hard tour, was giving out high fives during the show. Then a fan tried to grab his junk while he was doing this. He laughed it off, and so did the fans, but we really need to talk about this here on Ao3. 
> 
> This kind of behaviour is NOT okay. I know we all like to act like Dan is some sexual deviant and constantly okay with this shit, but actions like that are completely unacceptable. Whoever did this to Dan is probably getting enough hate as it is, so I won't attack them on their behaviour. I will say, though, that this should be an example of the type of fans we _don't_ want to be. 
> 
> Dan was lucky he was wearing an athletic cup. But he may not be so lucky next time. Let's all just keep that big rule we all learned in preschool in mind: Hands to yourselves. 
> 
> On a lighter note, thank you so much for all your support. I got lots of well wishes for my flu to get better, which it thankfully did quickly. It took a little while for my inspiration to come back, but now that it is back, I hopefully have lots in store for all of you!
> 
> Thank you all once again, and I'm sorry for the long Author's Note! I just have a lot to say~
> 
> P.S. This chapter's song is Slow and Steady by Of Monsters and Men.
> 
> EDIT: Also I wanted to remind you I have a tumblr for my stories! And I'm gonna try to be more interactive with it n shit!! And maybe I'll take prompts n shit who knows!!!


	9. Goodbye To My Santa Monica Dream

Here you were; drinking again. 

 

You hadn’t done this on a  _ long _ time, just going out on a bender. Alcohol was what induced that little incident after all, and you didn’t want that happening again. 

Your mind flickered everywhere. From the face that Dan made when you first found him, to the ghost of his lips on your skin what felt like it must have only been hours ago. From the cold snow that seeped into your skin when you ran away to Boston, to the sight high above the ground on the ferris wheel with him.

But it had only been a week since that day on Santa Monica pier. It had only been a week since he had oh so carefully placed his lips on your forehead, making your heart pound in such a stupid, head-over-heels fashion that you couldn’t help but want to punch yourself in the face for acting like this.

You couldn’t be like this. Not after everything he’d done to you. Not after he put you through that heartache so long ago.

God, what the hell was happening? Why did you have to be so torn up about it? This was  _ fifteen Goddamned years ago. _ Why couldn’t you stop being such a heart-broken, whiney, he’s-the-only-person-I’ll-ever-be-able-to-love-ish teenager about this?

Part of you wanted to feel bad about yourself. Because here you were, sitting alone at a karaoke bar, obsessing about this boy you broke up with fifteen years ago and wondering how it could have been different. Because it could have been. Because someone fucked up and now even you weren’t sure who. 

But another part of you, most likely the drunken one, felt proud. You’d gone fifteen years with feeling almost  _ nothing! _ Look at you, being all stoic and unemotional and cool. Who said ladies have to be emotional? Surely not you! And not Dan, because you proved him  _ wrong wrong wrong! _

But he wouldn’t have said that. Because he’s nice and caring and loves people too much to stereotype them like that. Because he loved you at one point, and now you didn’t know when he stopped. Or if he ever stopped at all. 

But who needs love! Who needs  _ guys? _ Fuck men! Right? Who needs a guy when you have your girly drinks and alcoholism! And singing and guitars! Yaaaaay!

Maybe you were going insane. That had to be it. Fortunately you weren’t drunk to the point of embarrassing yourself in front of the whole bar, though. At least you kept your rambling in your head, or at the very least, quiet mumbling as you sifted through your phone, looking at the time and texts and random apps scattered through your phone. 

“Hey, princess. Someone looks upset. Drinking your problems away?” The bartender. A young guy, probably in his mid twenties with peach fuzz on his face and a college-boy voice. You looked up smiling at his choice of words. 

“Damn straight I am. I’d ask what brings you here, but you work here.” You said, thankful you weren’t too drunk to hold a conversation. He let out a heartfelt chuckle, leaning against the bar and looking at you. 

“What’s the matter, princess? Like I said, you look upset.” You grumbled in reply, not really saying anything in particular. That was quite the odd nickname for a twenty-something-year-old to be using on a thirty-something-year-old, but who cares?

“Do you normally approach drunk girls and ask them why they’re using alcohol as a coping mechanism?” You asked, jokingly curious. He laughed again. 

“Only when they’re as funny as you. So tell me, what’s the matter?”

“Ugh. Okay, so imagine one day your girlfriend or boyfriend or whoever you’re into cheats on you,” You began, to which the bartender audibly groaned. 

“Oh God. That’s what happened?” He asked.

“Oh, just you wait, there’s more. So they cheat on you, and you break up with them and leave and it’s whatever. Then fifteen years later they’re back and they’re nicer than ever and you forgot who they were for a while and now you’ve just pretended for months like nothing happened. And no one talks about it or anything, or even mentions it.” You explain before taking another sip of your - what the hell even is this? You’d just said ‘something fruity’ and here you were with a lemon something-or-other.

The bartender nodded. “Oh, so now the whole thing’s catching back up and you don’t know what to do? So you’re drinking?” He asked. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol that made you think he was genuinely interested or if it was true, but whatever. You would gladly soak up the attention. 

“Yeah, basically. You’re just some geeky college kid, I’m sure, but you wouldn’t have any advice?” You asked. He shrugged. 

“I mean, it’s kind of obvious to me. Talk to them. Leave the option of pretending nothing ever happened open, and if all else fails, just punch ‘em in the nose and laugh as you leave.” He said. 

You started mulling this over immediately. Could it really be that easy? Could you actually just  _ do  _ that? Like you had just  _ done _ that when you left Philly? That Dunkin’ Donuts girl had been so surprised when you told her you’d just  _ done  _ that. So maybe you could just  _ do _ that again?

“You all good? Too much to drink?” The bartender asked. 

“Nope! I’m good, thank you for the advice. I’m gonna… Go, and… Uh…” The alcohol was starting to catch up, just like the rest of this. Words were like foreign objects all of a sudden leaving you a confused and frustrated mess. “Yeah.” You said before turning and leaving, fumbling for your phone. 

You ignored the guy’s question of “Who’s driving?” as you walked out, dialing Dan’s number. Ringing. Ringing. It was late, maybe he was asleep? Ringing. Ring- There it is, the click. He picked up. 

“I- Uh, Dan? I-di-uh-” You stuttered wildly into the receiver, trying to form the words but they just jumbled together on your tongue. You groaned out of frustration, trying to find the right thing to say. Trying to find anything to say because this wasn’t going to work. 

But the way he said your name with such concern, so much emotion and confusion… Hell, it almost sobered you up. Almost. 

“Are… Are you drunk?” He asked, probably still groggy from you having woken him up. You knew you should have felt guilty. “Shit, where are you? I’ll pick you up-”

“No! No, just- I-I’m going, going to your place, we ne-need to talk.” You managed to stutter out, fumbling for your keys. You walked out of the bar, finding a good temporary balance and rushing to your car. Dan spoke from the line. 

“I swear to God, if you’re about to drive- Just wait a minute, I’ll be there, please don’t do this.” You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, but this talk had to happen. You knew it was one of your worst fears, having to face this head on, but this had to happen eventually.

“Daaaaaan,” You whined, clueless as to what you’d say next. Now you were just sitting in the car seat, phone loosely held to your ear as Dan spoke through it. 

“Just- Where are you? Stay on the phone with me, okay?” You merely grunted in approval before you heard car engines starting as he kept talking. “Where are you?” He asked again. 

“A… A bar? Some open mic place called, uh… Zero ground? Cafe in the name?” Your mind was almost a blank slate. You heard Dan mumble some sort of affirmation as you sat in your car, head on the steering wheel.

 

You weren’t sure how long you just sat there, feigning conversation before you heard a tap on your window. You turned, seeing Dan standing there with a worried expression on his face. You opened the door, pulling yourself out before he hugged you with a sigh.

“Jesus… I was worried.” He said. You just breathed in, feeling a strange sense of conflict in your gut. “I’ll let you crash at my place, okay?” This earned him another grunt of affirmation as you walked to his car, letting him lead the way.

 

The car ride was a short and quiet one. He just turned the radio on, keeping it quiet. 

When you got to his house, he pulled you inside and sat you down on the couch, sitting directly across from you with an almost stern look of concern. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked. He knew, he was the type of person to know. But you stayed quiet, trying to clear your head before speaking. The silence was still much longer than it needed to be, though. 

“Why are you so nice to me?” Out of all the sentences you could have chosen to say, you chose that one. But you had no clue why. 

“What do you mean?” Dan seemed a little taken aback by your question. Why wouldn’t he be nice to you? You hadn’t done anything wrong. 

“You know what I mean!” You exclaimed, looking up at him. He looked startled and hurt. God, damn it, this man always knew exactly how to show his emotions. “We both know what happened, why can’t we be like normal couples are when this happens? Why can’t we just hate each other and move on with it? You just call me a stuck-up bitch while I call you a lying asshole. Why don’t we do that?”

He looked stricken, then down at his legs, trying to form an answer. You waited. 

“Because what happened that night wasn’t normal. We weren’t a normal couple, and you’re not a stuck-up bitch.” He said. 

“And you’re not a lying asshole.” You simply replied with. He smiled softly, small but genuine. As usual.  

“Thanks?” He said with a small chuckle at the end. 

More silence. 

“What do you mean by ‘what happened that night wasn’t normal’?” You asked after reading into his words. Dan’s gaze shifted.

“We really shouldn’t talk about this with you like this. We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay?” He said, his eyes looking into yours to show he meant it. You sighed, debating the subject for a brief moment and then speaking. 

“No, Leigh.” You said sternly. Dan looked a little surprised, hearing you say his real name. He must’ve told you years ago. Did you really remember him that much? Think about it as much as he had? “We both know how long this has been on our minds, been on each other’s mind. No more waiting. No more secrets.” Dan’s look softened and then turned to his lap again.

He was quiet for a long moment. Just trying to think of how to start the conversation. Thoughts rushed through his head, exploring option after option. What would he start with? How much did you remember? Because he remembered every second. 

“I was stressed as shit and started talking to Jenny about it.” He said. You nodded, patient while urging him on. “And you know how she would always flirt with me, shit like that. But then one night, we were talking, and she just gives me a beer. And then I somehow ended up drinking too many and then-” He stopped, trying not to rush. 

He looked at you, expecting to see anger, sadness, something. But you just watch with curious eyes, wondering what he’d say next. 

“I tried to say no. But I was… I guess I was just too drunk to do anything. She just told me to shut up and then-” He stopped talking, and though he couldn’t explain it well, you suddenly knew what happened. As if the memories became yours. 

“Dan, I-” He cut you off, not seeing your expression. Not hearing the sudden concern in your voice. You tried to move closer to him to comfort him, but he pulled away. 

“Don’t. I just don’t know how to tell you, I mean, I didn’t then. Still don’t.” You felt almost as though the alcohol drained from your system, shock settling in. 

“No, Dan, I get it, I just-” You felt regret seep into you, looking at Dan’s downcast face. “I’m so, so sorry, Dan. I never knew, I-” You felt a small sob escape you, looking at him as he looked up at you with confusion that turned to the same shock you were feeling. 

“No, hon, it’s fine, really.” He said, moving closer to you. 

“No! It’s really not! I-I can’t believe… And then I just left! I just left you and didn’t even ask what happened! Why didn’t I-” You put a hand over your mouth, trying to strangle the sobs before they escaped you. Dan moved closer, hugging you to his body as you kept trying and failing at stifling the sobs that wracked your body. “I am so sorry.” You muttered out. 

“Don’t be, this isn’t your fault. It was never your fault. Just that psycho bitch.” He added a small laugh onto his words, trying to lighten the mood. You let out a noise that was somewhere in between a laugh and another sob, morbidly amused by his tone.  

You let him keep holding you as you cried, a deep sense of guilt settling into the cracks of your heart that were still healing from that night. You kept trying to calm down, doing any and everything to compose yourself. Holding your breath, thinking of something else, concentrating on Dan’s breath as it started to wobble in rhythm like yours. 

You looked at him, seeing that his eyes were shut tightly as his mouth was buried in your hair. Tears formed at the corners of his eyes, provoking you to ask “Why are  _ you _ crying?”

“Because you are.” He replied with, voice a little watery as he wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand. You smiled small, letting out a scoff as your replied. 

“I don’t cry.” The irony made him smile, leaning more into you. 

“Yeah,” He said, quietly and calmly.

Everything felt soft in the way it always was with Dan. In the way that he lightly held you, rubbing your back as your breath calmed. You grumbled a little, pulling back to tiredly look at Dan while talking. “Hey, I know I’m still kinda drunk, but I-” You cut yourself off, considering for a moment. “Would it be weird to ask if I could kiss you right now?” Dan smiled at your words, pulling you into a hug briefly. 

“No, but I won’t. I don’t want you to wake up in the morning and regret it. So for now let’s just go back to bed, okay?” Ah, right. You woke him up.  _ Now _ you felt guilty. You smiled and laughed at yourself. 

“Okay, reasonable. Can I at least cuddle with you?” You asked softly, almost on the verge of begging. But you’d never beg to get anything you wanted. Right?

“Absolutely.” He replied with, getting up off the couch. You pulled yourself up, following him to the bed. He fell onto it, half-asleep before his head hit the pillow. You agreed; this much emotion in one night was too draining. You fell onto the bed with him, barely even moving from your half-sprawled out position before the world started feeling hazy. 

But you still turned to Dan, huddling up near him and letting him wrap his arms around you again. “I really am sorry.” You said quietly, almost hoping he wouldn’t answer. But he did reply, mumbling softly as his breath evened out.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for, love.” As then he was gone, asleep and snoring softly. 

 

You weren’t long after, falling into a dreamless sleep quickly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is Santa Monica Dream by Angus and Julia Stone. 
> 
> (As a side note, this story's almost finished and I don't know what to focus on once I'm finished! I have my three other stories (Everything I'll (N)Ever Regret, Sloom, and Blank Pages) but which one do you guys want to see focused on?)


	10. He Offered Me The Universe, But I'd Rather Be With You.

You could vaguely remember Dan shifting, moving out of bed at one point. 

 

You also remember laughing at the simple thought of  _ “Maybe he fell out of bed,” _ as you rolled over, grabbing his still-warm pillow before falling back asleep.

 

The early morning haze of still being a little buzzed with a headache and nausea really got to you. You hadn’t drunk that much alcohol since you started singing at that old open mic in Boston, and you’d stopped when you started  _ actually _ singing there.

You pulled yourself up, running your hands through your hair to hope to tame the bedhead you likely had. Close enough. 

The house was a strange mix of silent and alive. You knew someone was there, you just didn’t hear them. You pulled yourself up, hoping to get up and look for Dan. He wouldn’t have left yet, would he? What time was it, even?

You shrugged off the questions, shuffling out of the blankets and standing up, trying to make yourself look presentable with a rub of your face and wipe-down of your clothes. 

Leaving the room, you saw Dan in the kitchen, a pair of headphones on as he swayed to the beat, fiddling with something you couldn’t see. He was so preoccupied with whatever he was doing that he didn’t see or hear you come out of the room. 

You just stood there, admiring him for moment. You could notice the way his eyelashes fluttered for a moment in the spaces before he blinked, and you noticed how his lips moved with the words of every song he listened to.

Eventually you walked up to him, lightly poking his side. “Hey, twinkle toes. What’chya doin’?” You asked. He jumped in reply, taking off his headphones in surprise and looking to you before laughing just a bit. 

“Breakfast. I’m assuming you still do toast with tylenol for hangovers?” He said, making you laugh. 

“You know me so well.” You replied. He smiled and handed you the bottle of tylenol, turning to grab a cup of water right after. You turned to see what he’d been fiddling with, smiling and grabbing a plate of toast. Keeping to tradition felt good after so long. 

“Tinsley’s working today, right?” Dan asked. You laughed, biting into your toast. 

“Yeah, but not until noon. People’ll just have to wait I guess, I’m  _ not _ going to work with a hangover.” You said. Dan nodded, a smile on his face. You were glad you gave Tinsley a pair of keys to use.

You guys kept quiet for the most part, sitting down in front of the T.V. and deciding to watch  _ The Wedding Singer, _ though you’d tried your damnedest to get him to put in his copy of  _ The Exorcist. _ You sat down on the couch together, content as you put a pillow in Dan’s lap and laid down. 

Your attention faded in and out of the movie, going to anything from the hand that was mindlessly brushing through your hair to the events of last night. 

You wished you could use the excuse that you’d drank too much. That the memories were blurred or that you’d just blacked out. But you couldn’t. Because it was so clear to you. You could still remember it all; the tears, the pain, the realization that you’d really fucked up and now you couldn’t make up for it-

Guilt clawed at your chest as you stared through the movie in front of you. Dan noticed your transparent stare, and the way your expression would change with the slightest thought. “You feeling okay?” He asked quietly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” You trailed off, trying to find the right words. “Thinkin’ about last night.” Dan nodded, his hand drifting to where you head lay on his lap. He spoke with a comforting voice as his hand brushed through and over your hair. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He reassured, looking at you softly. 

“Is there much to talk about?” You asked in return. Dan thought for a long moment, his eyebrows furrowing for a moment as he thought. He knew the question, just not the words to phrase it.

“What do you want to do from here?” He finally said, finding the words.

It was quiet for a long moment. If you were honest with yourself, you had absolutely no clue. What  _ did _ you want to happen? Did you want to get back in a relationship with him? Or did you want to wait and see what’d happen? Or just agree to stay friends?

You didn’t really know. So you sat up, sitting next to Dan as you spoke. “Would it be okay if I ask for that kiss now? Since I’m mostly sober?” You asked, wishing you could do something over than avoid his gaze. 

Dan didn’t know what to say. More, he didn’t know if he  _ should  _ say anything. So he carefully leaned in, his lips brushing against yours softly and cautiously. 

The kiss was soft and a little sloppy, but reciprocated equally between both of you. It felt so much longer than it was, like time had for once just stopped so you could take a moment to realize how much had passed. When Dan pulled away, it took you a moment before you could really react. But when you did, you smiled and laughed. 

“Yeah, I think- I think I like that. Is that an option?” You said, laughing spilling through your words. Dan smiled, wrapping an arm around you and hugging him to you as he spoke. 

“Hell yeah.”

 

You both layed like that for a long time, just relaxing. A sleepy sense of relaxation fell over you, making you fade in and out of reality. The afternoon was sprinkled with questions, some bigger than others. 

“Do you think that things would have been better if we’d stayed together back then?” You asked, half asleep. 

“Actually, no. After Philly when I lived in New York… It wasn’t a place I’d have wanted to put you in. We lived in this shitty apartment that wasn’t up to code and I would have felt so bad having dragged you there with me.” He explained. 

“Who knows, maybe you never would have made it to New York at all if I hadn’t taken off. Things would probably be wildly different.” You said. “I think this is better.”

Dan smiled in reply, leaning into you more. “Much. Much better.” He said quietly, his voice reassuring against the faded sound of the television. 

 

But as it always did, time passed. Life went back to normal. You ended up finding new people to hire as business suddenly skyrocketed (you suspect Dan had something to do with this), and suddenly, you had free time. So much of it, in fact, that you found yourself tagging along with Dan and his friends after you met.

The first few times that you met Dan’s friends were actually really fun. When you met Arin, he asked, “Oh, did you punch Dan in the nose?” which made both you and Dan laugh. 

“I don’t know why I would, but he probably deserves it.” You laughed, Dan letting out a small and offended ‘hey!’ before going to what he was doing.

You connected with people quickly. Maybe you were just good at it, or maybe something clicked. It only seemed natural when you were invited to karaoke night, which just happened to be at the same place you’d been those few weeks ago.

The place was much more high energy. People singing and embarrassing themselves as they messed up lyrics, sang off key, smiling the whole time. There was something kind of pure about it, just watching people enjoy themselves.

While Dan and Arin eagerly dragged a not-so-eager Barry to the signup sheet, you sat down with Vernon and Suzy at the bar, generally talking as people sang. You ended up ordering something similar to the drink you’d had last time. A lemon something-or-other. But it was virgin this time; you made a half-assed vow to stop drinking that day that you stared through most of  _ The Wedding Singer. _

“Hey, princess! You’re back!” The voice was instantly recognized as familiar, making you look up. And there he was; the college jock that helped you. You laughed at the nickname, looking at him. 

“Hey, fuzzy-face. Fancy seeing you here.” You replied. Suzy looked over curious. 

“Who’s this?” She asked, her face betraying the innocence of her tone. You rolled your eyes at her. 

“A bartender, I’d assume. Unless he has a name that I never picked up on?” You said, turning back to him. 

“Ryan, and I’m off work fortunately. I never really picked up on your name either, but I’m mostly curious-” He paused, glancing at Suzy for a moment. “What happened with that problem?”

Suzy gave you a strange and almost shocked look.

“No! No sexuality problems, Suze, I wasn’t-” You cut yourself off, laughing with Suzy and Ryan and he muttered something about ‘You never told me if they were a girl!’. “No, I actually got it sorted out. He’s actually going to get on stage soon.” You said, looking over to the stage where Arin was finishing his song. “And that’s his best friend.”

Ryan smiled. “Looks like you’ve got it good, then. Is he cute?” He asked, arching a sly brow as he leaned onto the table. 

“Hell yeah, the cutest.” You said, taking a quick sip of your drink afterwards. Arin finished his song, a few people letting out loose cheers as he sauntered over to the table. You watched as Dan confidently marched onto the stage, more cheers following his appearance as the song started. 

“Damn, he  _ is _ the cutest!” Ryan exclaimed. You laughed, listening as Dan started singing  _ Pour Some Sugar On Me, _ just like he had all that time ago. 

“What about you? You got a cutie of your own?” You asked. Ryan laughed, glancing away shyly. 

“Yeah. Scott’s mostly taking care of the kid, taking Theater classes on the side.” He spoke with a way so dusted with infatuation, you couldn’t help but smile. Part of you hoped Dan talked about you like this. 

“You have a kid?”

 

You spent the whole time laughing as Ryan pulled out pictures on his phone of his fiance and adopted kid, Cheyenne. You just couldn’t help but wonder, though. Would you ever have this kind of love? Where you’d show pictures of your kids or pets or Dan because you loved them so much? Would they all do the same for you?

With a bout of cheering, you heard Dan come up to the rest of the table. You looked over at him, smiling at the joy on his face. “Nice job up there, man.” Ryan said to him. Dan smiled. 

“Thanks! Have we met before?” He asked politely. 

“No, I’m just the bartender. Sorry, I got wrapped up in talking about Cheyenne and Scott. I’ll leave you be, but don’t hesitate to say hi if you see me around!” He said, putting his phone in his pocket as he turned around and walked away. 

“New friend?” Dan asked. Two pieces of you were suddenly in conflict. Had Dan gotten jealous? Would he be angry? 

No, Dan wasn’t that kind of person, the other piece said. “Yeah, he was gushing about his kid.” You said, smile betraying the hidden nervousness in your system.

But Dan wasn’t that kind of person,you told yourself again. He wasn’t. And you knew because he smiled and nodded, saying “He seems cool,” before joining in the rest of the table’s conversation.  _ Maybe I’m were too nervous about things,  _ you thought as you returned to your drink, smiling.

This was what you loved about you and Dan’s relationship. About Dan himself. That he’d never get jealous like that no matter how much you thought he would. You loved that, even though just minutes ago you were wondering if you’d ever make a family like Ryan’s, all those worries melted away with him. Because there was no rush. 

Things were perfect. As perfect as they could be, at least.

 

Things never work out the way they’re planned. You knew that hard and well now. Things never are the way they seem, and that crates factors that you just can’t calculate. But maybe, somewhere and somehow, there’s a reason for it. Whether it be divine force or nothing but human gratification, there’s a reason for everything that happens. Even if that reason is shitty and unfair.

You never would have expected any of this. Not the business you cared for, or the person that it so fatefully brought in. Not the mistakes you made or battles fought. None of it could have been predicted. You knew that now. 

 

Your heart, so carefully put back together and bandaged and cared for, knew that now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is The Devil's Tears, by Angus & Julia stone. 
> 
> This is the last chapter. Santa Monica Dream's send off. And I thank every single one of you with every piece of my heart for being here. Whether it be the moment it's posted or years from now when this is in the forgotten archives of these tags. 
> 
> Thank you so, so much. You have no clue how much this means to me.


End file.
